AMONG  THE 
WATER-FOWL 


UC-NRLF 


HERBERT  K,  JOB 


BIOLOGY 
LIBRARY 


AMONG    THE    WATER-FOWL 


AMONG  THE  WATER- 
FOWL- OBSERVATION,  ADVENTURE, 
PHOTOGRAPHY.  A  POPULAR  NARRA- 
TIVE ACCOUNT  OF  THE  WATER-FOWL 
AS  FOUND  IN  THE  NORTHERN  AND 
MIDDLE  STATES  AND  LOWER  CANADA, 
EAST  OF  THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS 


by 

HERBERT   K.   JOB 


PROFUSELY    ILLUSTRATED    BY   PHOTOGRAPHS    FROM  NATURE, 
MOSTLY    BY    THE    AUTHOR 


NEW  YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE   &   CO. 
1903 


J 

X 


Copyright,  1902,  by 
JOHN  WANAMAKEK 


Copyright,  1902,  by 

DOUBLEDAY,    PAGE    &     Cb. 

Published  May,  1902 


TO    MY  WIFE 

WHO   FIRST   INVEIGLED   ME   INTO   USING  THE   CAMERA 
THIS   VOLUME   IS  AFFECTIONATELY   DEDICATED 


268690 


PREFACE 

IT  was  the  beautiful  bird-pictures  of  Audubon 
that  fascinated  me  as  a  child  and  made  me  love  the 
birds  and  begin  to  watch  them,  such  as  could  be 
found  in  the  home  garden  in  the  suburbs  of  Boston. 
By  the  time  that  I  was  old  enough  to  be  trusted 
afield,  the  limits  of  the  city  became  too  narrow,  and 
I  began  to  roam  abroad,  seeking  out  the  haunts  of 
the  birds.  In  due  time  I  had  formed  a  considerable 
acquaintance  with  all  the  familiar  songsters,  and 
many  others.  Soon  I  came  to  feel  a  special  interest 
in  the  shyer  and  more  mysterious  species  that  the 
average  youngster  knew  nothing  of.  The  Hawks 
and  Owls  were  my  especial  delight,  and  to  discover 
their  nests  no  amount  of  effort  was  too  great  a  price 
to  pay. 

This  enthusiasm  soon  took  me  to  the  sea-coast, 
where  there  were  new  worlds  to  conquer  in  the 
hordes  of  migratory  Waders  and  strong-winged  fowl 
of  the  deep,  about  which  the  books  were  all  too 
silent.  Audubon  knew  them  best,  but  my  other 
favourite  writers  seemed  to  have  sadly  neglected 
them.  Samuels'  "Birds  of  New  England  "  I  almost 
knew  by  heart,  but  many  of  my  bird-favourites  its 
author  was  evidently  little  acquainted  with.  Minot 
was  intensely  interesting,  but  he  stopped  short  of 
the  Water-Fowl. 

In  pursuit  of  these  inhabitants  of  shore  and 
ocean,  various  were  the  craft  that  I  owned  and  navi- 

vii 


PREFACE 

gated,  and  many  the  narrow  escapes.  However,  I 
am  yet  alive,  and  the  Wild-Fowl  have  thought  it 
best,  in  view  of  my  persistency,  to  take  me  in  some 
measure  into  their  confidence  and  divulge  to  me 
some  of  their  secrets.  And  now,  after  rounding  out 
a  full  quarter-century  of  these  pryings,  on  land  and 
sea,  I  hope  that  I  am  not  abusing  the  confidence  of 
my  wild  friends  in  telling  what  they  have  taught 
me.  The  Robins  and  Chippies,  with  their  kin, 
have  been  popularized  in  books  innumerable ;  but 
why  should  not  the  great  Nature-loving  public  find 
also  interesting  and  instructive  the  lives  and  ways  of 
the  Water-Fowl  ?  In  time  past  these  have  been 
thought  of  largely  as  targets  for  the  gun.  Perhaps 
they  will  pardon  me  for  laying  bare-  their  lives  to 
scrutiny,  as  I  protest  to  them,  upon  the  first  occa- 
sion of  our  future  meeting,  that  I  am  trying  to  raise 
up  friends  for  them,  not  foes.  It  will  mark  a  new 
era  in  our  civilization  when  the  now  persecuted 
Wild-Fowl  can  alight  in  the  village  pond  and  feed 
in  peace,  the  object  only  of  friendly  admiration. 

As  yet  they  are  fearful  of  that  new,  mysterious 
Cyclops  with  its  staring  eye,  the  camera ;  but  I  hope 
they  may  learn  to  recognize  in  it  a  real  friend,  for 
in  thousands  of  hands  this  is  taking  the  place  of  the 
gun.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  deny  that  there  are 
legitimate  uses  for  the  dead  bird.  But  owing  to 
relentless,  short-sighted  slaughter,  hitherto  carried 
on,  it  is  coming  to  be  a  question  of  birds  or  no 
birds.  Every  true  sportsman  will  practise  great 
moderation  in  the  capture  of  game,  and  every  thought- 
ful lover  of  wild  life  stand  for  its  protection.  Exer- 
cise afield  and  contact  with  Nature  are  invaluable, 

viii 


PREFACE 

but  require  an  incentive.  If  the  destruction  of  life 
can  be  minimized  by  the  finding  of  some  satisfac- 
tory substitute  for  the  gun,  no  one  will  be  the  loser. 

Such  a  substitute  I  myself  have  found  in  the 
camera,  which  fully  satisfies  my  hunter's  instinct. 
Far  more  skill  and  resource  are  required  to  photo- 
graph a  wild  creature  than  to  shoot  it,  and  the  pic- 
ture, when  secured,  is,  ordinarily,  of  far  greater 
value  than  a  few  mouthfuls  of  flesh.  As  I  recall 
successful  shots  at  fowl  from  the  gunning-stand,  I 
would  give  much  to  have  the  pictures  now  to  en- 
thuse me,  in  exchange  for  fleeting  memory.  Would 
it  not  be  wise  policy  to  interest  our  boys  in  Nature- 
study,  and  the  camera  as  applied  to  it,  and  discour- 
age shooting  at  living  things?  Real  acquaintance 
with  a  harmless  and  beautiful  wild  creature,  I  can 
testify,  makes  one  less  and  less  disposed  to  take  its 
life. 

Hence  I  would  most  cordially  commend  to  my 
fellow  sportsmen  and  bird-lovers  this  noble  instru- 
ment. An  expensive  outfit  is  entirely  unnecessary. 
In  case  my  own  experience  may  be  of  any  encour- 
agement, let  me  say  that  all  my  pictures  in  this 
book  were  taken  with  an  ordinary  4  by  5  focusing 
camera,  rapid  rectilinear  lens,  and  bellows  of  1 2 
inches  draw,  that  cost  me  less  than  $20.  I  consider 
the  4  by  5  size  just  right  for  field  work.  Equipped 
with  such  a  camera  and  any  good  make  of  rapid 
plates,  with  a  little  careful  study  and  practice  of 
photographic  method,  following  out  some  such  plans 
afield  as  are  described  in  this  and  other  volumes, 
joined  with  real  love  for  the  birds  and  Nature,  there 
is  no  reason  why  anyone  may  not  succeed  better 

ix 


PREFACE 

than  I  have  done.  I  only  hope  that  my  work  may 
help  extend  the  growing  enthusiasm  for  Nature- 
study,  and  that  the  simple  narrative  of  my  personal 
observations,  written  without  any  assumption  of 
technical  learning,  may  interest  many  in  my  friends, 
the  Water-Fowl. 

Though  my  experiences,  as  narrated,  have  been 
largely  in  the  northern  portions  of  the  country,  they 
characterize  almost  equally  well  the  Water-Fowl  of 
the  middle  districts,  and  the  species  mentioned, 
wherever  found.  Owing  to  exigencies  of  space, 
many  of  the  illustrations  are  reduced  in  size  from 
the  original  photographs ;  where  there  has  been  ap- 
preciable enlargement,  the  fact  and  degree  are  noted. 

Companions  in  the  field  and  other  friends  have 
generously  placed  at  my  disposal  even  more  of  their 
pictures  than  could  be  used,  supplying  certain  gaps 
in  my  material,  and  I  wish  herewith  to  express  my 
grateful  acknowledgments  to  Messrs.  A.  C.  Bent, 
C.  S.  Day,  Owen  Durfee,  Rev.  C.  J.  Young,  W. 
L.  Baily/W.  H.  Fisher  and  H.  A.  Shaw. 

HERBERT   K.  JOB. 

Kent,  Connecticut,  March,  1902. 


TABLE     OF     CONTENTS 

PART  I.— THE  SUBMERGED  TENTH 
Grebes  and  Loons 

PAGES 

Among  Colonies  of  the  American  Eared  Grebe  .         .         .         .  I~I4 

The  Great  City  of  the  Western  Grebe        .        V        .         ,         .  15-27 

Holboell's,  Horned  and  Pied-billed  Grebes      ,   .         .         .         .  27-33 

Grebes  Breeding  in  the  East ;  their  habits  in  autumn  and  winter  33~39 

Loons  on  Sea  and  Lake      .          .          .          .       ;  .         1         .-.....'  39~43 

The  Breeding-haunts  of  the  Loons      .          .          .         .         »    .    .  -.  43~49 

PART  II.— MODERN  CLIFF-DWELLERS 
Gannets,  Guillemots,  Auks,  Puffins,  Kittiwakes,  etc. 

Glimpses  of  the  Magdalen  Islands      .       '  >         .    '     ...  '       ..      .  , ...  50— 52 

The  Bird  Rocks         .      '   .         .        v        -         •         •        .•         •  53~64 

Second  Day  on  Great  Bird  Rock        .         ..        .    "     .         .         ,  64-73 

Third  Day,  and  the  Trip  to  North  Bird  Rock     .         .         *         .  73-80 

Last  Observations  on  the  Rock            .         .         .         .         -         V  81-83 

Further  Researches  on  Other  Islands  of  the  Magdalen  Group       .  83-86 

Other  Cliff-Dwellers  Breeding  on  the  Coast  of  Maine          .      .   .  86-90 

After  the  Breeding  Season  ;  winter  along  the  coast     .         .         .  91-96 

PART   III.— OCEAN  WANDERERS 
Shearwaters,  Jaegers  or  Skuas,  Petrels,  Phalaropes 

Summer  Ocean  Birds  off  Cape  Cod    .       :  .         .         . -,               .  97-107 

Photographing  the  Ocean  Wanderers  .         .         »         .         .   107-114 

xi 


CONTENTS 

PAGES 

Jaeger  Days       .         .         .         .         ...         .»•"'•         .115-120 

Among  the  Phalaropes        .         .      .    .         .         .         .         .         .    120-124 

The  Nesting  of  the  Ocean  Wanderers  ;  visits  to  the  breeding- 
grounds  of  Leach's  Petrel  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  124-129 

PART  IV.— THE  WHITE-WINGED  FLEET 

Gulls  and  Terns 

Visits  to  Herring  Gull  Islands  along  the  Atlantic  Coast       .         .    130-139 
Tern  Colonies  and  Habits  in  the  East         .    .      .    ...  "i         .         .   139-144 

Other  Gulls  on  the  Eastern  Coasts     .         .         .  .      .      "..;.      .   144-146 

The  "Enchanted  Isles,"  North  Dakota;  colonies  of  Double- 
crested  Cormorants,  Ring-billed  Gulls  and  Common  Terns  146-157 

A  Great  Colony  of  the  Franklin's  Rosy  Gull  ;  breeding  and  other 

.     habits  of  the  Black  Tern  ;  the  American  White  Pelican         .    157-169 

PART  y.— WILD  FOWL  OF  WILD  FOWL 
Ducks  and  Geese 

A  Tour  in  North  Dakota  among  Breeding  Ducks  and  Geese        .  170-189 

Breeding  of  the  Later  Ducks  on  the  Return  Trip         .         »" '  .   '.  189-196 

Tree-nesting  Ducks  in  North  Dakota          .         .         .         .         .  196-200 

Subsequent  Trip  to  North  Dakota,  and  Further  Discoveries        .  201-206 

The  Breeding-Habits  of  Ducks  in  the  East,  from  the  Magdalen 

Islands  to  Southern  New  England       ,      :   ;         .         .         .   206-213 

Habits  of  the  Wild-Fowl  in  Southern  New  England  after  the 
Nesting  Season  ;  gunning-stands  and  the  fowl  that  visit  the 
ponds  .  .  ,  .  .  .  *  ..  .  .  .  213-218 

Sea-coast  Fowl ;  habits,  modes  of  capture,  migrations          ;         .   218-224 


xn 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

Franklin's  Rosy  Gulls  in  flight.     Cover  picture. 

Herring  Gull   approaching  nest  (x  2)      .         .         .  Frontispiece 

Mounted  Loons  and  Grebes     .         .         .       !.         ...          2 

American   Eared  Grebe  Colony       .         ,         .         .         .         .          7 

Other  nests  of  the  Eared  Grebes       .         .         .         .         .         .        10 

Franklin's  Rosy  Gull  eating  Eared  Grebe's  Eggs       .         .         .14 
Eared  Grebe's  by  their  nests    .          .         .         .         .         .         .16 

Nest  of  Western  Grebe     .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .       17 

A  Western  Grebe-colony   scene         .         .         .          .         .         .        19 

A  Western  Grebe     ...         .         .         .         .         .         •       20 

A  group  of  Eared  Grebes  (x  i-J-)      .          .         .         .         .         .       22 

A  Western  Grebe  (x2)    .         .        '.         .         .         .         .         .23 

Another  Western  Grebe    (x  2)         ..         .         .         .         •       25 

Still  another  Western  Grebe  (x  3)     .  .         .         .26 

Nest  of  Holboell's  Grebe          .         .         •         •         ...       28 
Nest  of  Pied-billed  Grebe,  or  Dabchick    .         .         .  30 

Covered  nest  of  the  Dabchick 31 

Nest  and  young  of  Horned  Grebe 34 

Nest  and  eggs  of  Horned  Grebe       ....         .         .         .       35 

Floating  nest  of  Loon       .         ...         .         .         .         .43 

Nest  of  Loon  on  stony  shore     .  45 

Site  of  preceding  Loon's  nest 46 

Nest  of  Loon  out  in  lake  .         .         .         .         .         •         -47 

Another  view  of  preceding        ..       .         .         .         .         .          .       48 

View  of  Great  Bird  Rock  . 50 

Murres  and  Kittiwakes  from  the  crate       ...  -54 

The  city  of  the  birds         .         •      :    •-  ...       56 

View  of  North  Bird  Rock  from  top  of  Great  Bird  Rock     .         .       57 

xiii 


LIST    OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Another  cliff  view    .       ,  .         .         . "       .         .  .  *  .  58 

A  group  of  Gannets          .         .         .         .         .  .  .  .  59 

Gannet  and  Murres  incubating  (x  2)       .         .  .  .  "'-     .  60 

Nesting-site  of  Razor-billed  Auk       .         .         .  .  .  .  61 

Eggs  of  Murres  as  laid  on  ledge        .         .  ,       .  .  .  .  62 

A  Gannet  colony      ...                   ...  .  63 

A  Puffin  sitting  for  his  portrait  (x  4)         .  (-      .  .  .  .67 

Another  Puffin  portrait  (x  4)     .         .         ....•'.  •  •  •  68 

Razor-billed  Auks  at  close  range   (x  i^)   .         .  .  .  .  69 

Group  of  Murres,  Puffins  and  Razor-billed  Auk  .  .  70 

The  Pillar,  or  Pinnacle,  North  Bird  Rock         .  .  .  .  74 

Nest  of  Gannet,  North  Bird  Rock    .         .         .  .  .  .  75 

An  incubating  Briinnich's  Murre       .         .         .  .  •  77 

Common  Murres  on  their  eggs  (x  3)         .  . "  •.  .  78 

Kittiwakes  nesting  (x  i|-)         .          .         .         .  ,  :.  •'  79 

Gannets,  Murres  and  Kittiwakes  on  the  lower  ledges  .  .  80 

The  home  of  the  Ocean  Wanderers           .         .  .  .  .  97 

A  pair  of  Greater  Shearwaters          .         .  .  .  ,  108 

Two  Greater  Shearwaters  close  to  vessel        "  .  .  .  .  109 

The  Greater  Shearwaters,  a  hungry  horde         .  .  ~  .  .  in 

Wilson's  Petrels,  or  "  Mother  Carey's  Chicken's"  .  .  .114 

Sooty  and  Greater  Shearwaters         .         ^         .  .  .  .  116 

Wing-study  of  Western  Gull      .          .         .         .  ".  .  .  131 

Western  Gulls  in  Flight    .          .          .         .       .  .  ......  133 

Another  study  of  Western  Gulls        .         .         .  .  .  .  135 

Herring  Gulls  alighting  on  trees       .         .         .  .  .  .  137 

Nest  of  Herring  Gull        .         .         .         .         .  .  .  .138 

Slovenly  nest  of  Common  Tern         .         .         .  ,  ,  .  142 

Well-built  nest  of  Common  Tern       .         .         .  .  .  .  1 43 

Nest  of  Least  Tern           .         .         .         ...  .  .  144 

Nest  of  Ring-billed  Gull  .         .         .         .         .  .,  .  .  148 

Nests  of  Double-crested  Cormorants         .         .  |  .  .  149 

xiv 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Ring-billed  Gulls  by  their  nests      ,  -  .  V    .  .      -  .         .         .         ._..  151 

Ring-billed  Gull  incubating  -     .         .         .'    •  .         .         .         .     152 

Ring-billed  Gulls  on  Rocks       .  ,       .         .         •         .         .         .     153 
Young    Common  Tern     .         .  •      .        -.'•••.      ,         .         .         .155 
Common  Tern  coming  to  her  eggs    .         ,         ,         .         .         .     156 
The  same  Tern  incubating       .         >         .         .         .         .         .156 

Young  Ring-billed  Gull  .          .  .         .         .         .         .157 

Franklin's  Rosy  Gull  colony     .         .  .         »         .         .160 

Nest  of  Franklin's  Gull  .         ...         .         .         .161 

Pair  of  Franklin's  Gulls  on  their  nest        .         .         .         .         .162 

Scene  in  Franklin's  Gull  colony        .         .    .      .         .         .         .164 

Franklin's  Gull  and  chick         .         .         .         .          .         .         .      165 

Nest  of  Black  Tern          ......         .         .         .166 

Typical  Dakota  slough     .          .''  173 

Nest  of  Canvasback         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .176 

Nest  of  Canada  Goose     .         .         *. 178 

A  Mallard  drake      ....         .         .         .         .         .-     181 

Nest  of  Mallard  drake      *    '    '»   ;"-. 182 

Nest  of  Redhead     ...         .         ,         .         .         .         .183 

Another  view  of  Mallard  drake 184 

Nesting-site  of  Canvasback       ...         .         .         .         .188 

Nest  of  Lesser  Scaup  Duck     .       '  .         .         .         .         .         .     192 

Nest  of  White-winged   Scoter  .          .         .          .         .         .         .193 

A  Scoter  detained   by  her  nest 195 

Nesting-site  of  American  Golden-eye 197 

Golden-eye's  nest  in  stub         .         .         ^  .         .         .198 

Young  Shovelers  in  their  nest 202 

Nest  of  Ruddy  Duck        .       ,.         ,         -         •         •         •         •     203 

Nest  of  Redhead .     204 

The  same  nest,  showing  surroundings  .  .  .  .  .204 
Nest  of  Canvasback  with  egg  of  Ruddy  Duck  .  .  .205 
A  Magdalen  Islands'  morass  where  Ducks  breed  .  .  .207 

xv 


LIST  OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGK 


Nest  of  Dusky  Duck         .      ..'-..  .  .  .  .     208 

Nest  of  Greater   Scaup  Duck         .         .  .  ,  .  '..     209 

Nest  of  Blue-winged  Teal       .         .         .  .  '.  .  .     210 

Another  nest  of   Dusky  Duck         .         .  .  .  .  .212 

Live  Duck-decoys,  from  a  gunning  stand  .  .  .  .     216 

Young  Dusky  Duck         .          .         .          .  .  „  .  .     224 


xvi 


INDEX 

PACK 

Auk,  Little    .         .         .    "  ,. .         .         v    ."••  •  •      95 

Razor-billed         .        51,  53,  55,  59,  6-1,  69,  72,  76,  92,  93,  95 
Badger        -.{.,...  l 

Baldpate        <         ..        .    ;     .         .          177,189,190,193,201,215 
Bittern,  American  .         .         .         .         .        '•-•'.         82>   J66 

Blue-bill,  (See  Scaup  Duck) 

Brant  .          .          .         •      .    .  .        •  •       2l8>  2I9 

Buffalo  .      .    .         .  •  I 

Bufflehead     .         ,         .         .  •    •    2l8>  22° 

Burgomaster,  (See  Glaucus  Gull) 

Canvasback        .    ,     173,  176,  177,  186-188,  191,  196,  202-206  215 
Cod       .         ..        ....  94,  98 

Coot,  American      .,       .         .         .         •         2,  6,  161,  166,  173,  177 
Butter-billed         .         .         ^  '   -       222 

Gray  .         .         .         .  •       222 

Skunk-head         v        .      '  .  .222 

White-winged      .         .         .         .         .  •       222 

Cormorant     .         .         .         .  '   '•  .  .       •         •         •          •         •        X33 

Common     .          .         ...         .          •          •          •         83 

Double-crested    .      51,  83-84,  86,  91,  148-150,  152,  178,  193 
Coyote  .         .  •  •'•  . 

Crane,  Sandhill     .         ....         .         •  •        ^72 

Crossbill,  White-winged  ;    "  .          . 

Crow  ".....  87 

Cuckoo,  Black-billed       .      _iU--r  —  J;  -  82 

Dabchick,  (See  Pied-billed  Grebe) 

Dog-fish         .....  94 

Dovekie,  (See  Little  Auk) 

Duck  .         .         .  1,2,4,5,39,71,126,166,170-224 

Black,  (See  Dusky) 
Dusky         .         .         ..        .  207,208,212-213,215,223 

Greater  Scaup     .         .         .         .         177,  i9J»  207,  209»  2I7 

xvii 


INDEX 


PAGE 


Duck,  Harlequin  .         .         .      ,  .       -•..-.      .   x     .         .       2i8 

Lesser  Scaup       .         .  177,  189-193,  201-202,  206,  217 

Long-tailed,  (See  Oldsquaw) 

Ring-necked  Scaup     .         .         .          186,  191,  201,  206,  217 
Ruddy         .  •       .  177,  191,  i94,  I96,  202-206,  215 

Scaup  •  .         .    •     208,210,221,223 

Sea,  (See  American  Eider) 
Sea  Ducks        \.         .         .         .         .         .         .       217,   221 

Eider,  American    ...        .         .             71,  i9I)  2n,  218,  221,  223 
King  •         •         .         . 2l8 

Dicker  ,  _-. .          .          2g 

Gadwall         .         .         .     177-178,  190,  192-193,  201-202,  206,21^ 
Gannet  •      53.  55-6o,  62-63,  65,  69,  70,  72-75,  77,  80,  92 

Godwit,  Great  Marbled  .         .         .         .         .         .         .       ij2 

Golden-eye,  American        185,  197-200,  206,  210,  218,  220-221,  223 
Barrow's  .         .         .         ....         .         .218 

Goosander,  (See  American  Merganser) 

Goose  •         •  •  .;          91,170,217-218,221 

Canada       .  174-175,  178-180,  201,  214-215 

Snowy         •  -  •         .         .  174 

Gopher          ......  T 

Grackle,  Bronzed  .         .         ...         .         .  2o 

Grebe  ....         .       !-39,  I66,  196 

American  Eared  .  ,.       4-18,21-22,24,28,177 

Holboell's  •         •    2,  28-30,  35,38 

Horned       '         •  .         30-35,  38-39,  177 

Pied-billed  ....      2,  30-32,35-37,  173,  I77 

Western  .  ...      17-27,33 

Grouse,  Pinnated  .          .          ...  I 

Guillemot,  Black  .         .       5o?  84_90?  I2;>  I34 

Gull  65,  84,  92,  94,  ioo,  115-117,  130,  135,  140,  144,  146,  162 

Gull,  Bonaparte's  .  .         v        4          IISj  I43_I4S>  l63 

Burgomaster,  (See  Glaucus) 

Franklin's  .         .         .         .  j      .    .      .  ^  157-126 

Glaucus  -  .  142,  144-145 

Great  Black-backed     .  .     '  .,  -.;•--.         142,144-145 

Herrin^  v       •         -.  133-138,  142,  144-145,  149 

Laughing  .  .,      ,         .         .        i44 

xviii 


INDEX 

PAGE 

Gull,  Minister,  (See  Great  Black-backed) 

Ring-billed  .         ...          145-157,  162,  177,  189,  191 

Turkey,  (See  Great  Black-backed) 

Western  .      r    .         ..      .  .         ,         .         131,  133,  135 

Haddock    :   *         .         .         .         .         .       .  .         .•    "•' *  94,  98 

Hag,  or  Haglet,  (See  Shearwater) 

Hake  .         .         .         ,-        .       '  .-"        .         .         .  94,  98 

Hawk,  Marsh         .         .         .         .         ...         .         .       212 

Red-tailed  .         .  '    .'       .;        .         .         .         29 

Sparrow  .         .         .         .          .      '  '-.. ."._.-•       .         30 

Heron,  Night         .         .         .      ;   .         .         .          .        ..         „        166 

Jack  Rabbit  .....         ,         .         .         ...          .  i 

Jaeger  .         .         .         .         .         .  101,  106,  115,  117—119 

Long-tailed          .         .         .          .         .         .         .          .        118 

Parasitic  .         .         .          .         .         .          .         118-119 

Pomarine,  .         .         ;         .,        .  100,  no,  118—119 

Jiddy,  or  Jiddy-hawk,  (See  Jaeger) 
Kingbird       .          .         .         «         .         .         .         .          .          .        192 

Kittiwake       .  53,  55,  59,  65,  71-72,  75-77,  79,  80,  94 

Lark,  Prairie  Horned   ......          .          .          .          .  i 

Longspur       .         .         ,  .         .         .         .         .          .  i 

Loon     .  .  .  39-49 

Red-throated,  or  Pegging-awl       .  41-42 

The,  or  Great,  or  Great  Northern         .          .         .2,  39-49 

Mallard          .      171,  177-178,  181,  184-185,  191,  196,  206,  208,  215 

Martin,  Purple       .         .         . 29 

Meadowlark,  Western  ...          .          .          .          .          .  i 

Merganser,  American     .         .         ..         .          .          .         .  -     210,  218 

Hooded      .         ....         .         .         200,  206,  210,  218 

Red-breasted       .         .         .  207-208,  210,  219,  221,  223 

Mink  .          .    ,      .          .        ^         .          .          .          .  27 

Mother  Carey's  Chickens,  (See  Petrel) 

Murre,  50,  53,  55,  59,  61,  62,  65,  69,  72,  76-77,  80,  86,  92,  94 

Briinnich's  .          ,          .  60,65,93,95-96 

Common     .         .         .         .         ....     65,  78,  95 

Ringed  *         .         ...         .          .         .         .          .         66 

Muskrat         .         .-       »         .         .         .         .         .         .      24—25,48 

Noddy,  (See  Murre) 

xix 


INDEX 


f  rtAiH 

Old-squaw  -.'.       .  .  .          206,  217,  219-221,  223 

Oriole             .  ...  .         .         ,         .      ,-...*       .  * 

Osprey  ..•,..',      .         .         .         s5 

Owl,  Long-eared             .  .  „        ...      '   .         «         .  •      .         82 

Parrot,  Sea,  (See  Puffin) 

Pelican,  White  ,         .  ,  .      ,...-       .         .         .         168-169 

Petrel             •  •       .-.  .  101-102,  104-108,  no,  113,  121,  134 

Leach's  .    <  64,  72-73,  101-102,  104-106,  124-129 

Stormy  .         .  .  ,.        .. /"  .  .-        .       .  .         t       I02 

Wilson's  .         .  .         .  101-102,  108,  114,  117 

Phalarope      .  .         .  .  .         .         .         .         ..         120-123 

Northern              .  .  ..        ..         .         .        '>   .      120-132 

Red  •  •         •         •         ^       120,   122 

Wilson's      ...         .,.'         .         .         .  •'-.      .  I20 

Pigeon,  Sea,  (See  Black  Guillemot) 

Pintail  .  .    171,  175-178,  189,  191-193,  206,  215 

Plover  .         .         .         ...         .          .          .         .         84 

Golden        .         ...         .       ...         .       .,         .        I2j. 

Puffin  •  .       •  5J»  53^  59'  6o>  66-68,  72,  81,  89-91,  93,  95 

Rail       .  .  .         .....        166,  203 

Raven,  Northern  .         .         ...         .         .   84-87,   138 

Redhead        .     177,  183,  185,  187,  191,  196,  202-204,  206,  211,  215 
Robin  .        ..         .         ......  A 

Sandpiper      .  \         .         .         .        120,    134 

Spotted       .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .       127 

Sapsucker      .         .         .          .          .         .      '   .         .         .         ..         29 

Scoter  .          .         .  .         .         .          2o6,  217,  221,  223 

American,  or  Black      .          .         .         .         .         .         222-223 

Surf  .  .  ,         .        217,  222-223 

White-winged      ....  189-195,  201-202,  206,  217 

Sea  Goose,  (See  Phalarope) 
Sea  Hen,  (See  Jaeger) 

Shearwater  .         .       99-101,  105-106,  no, .112-1 13,  117,  121 

Corey's        .  ....        102-103 

Greater        .         .  101-102,  108-112,  115-116 

Sooty  -  99>  103,  1 08,  115-116 

Shelldrake,  or  Sheldrake,  or  Shell-duck,  (See  Merganser) 
Shoveller,  or  Shoveler       171,  177,  183,  185,  191-192,  202,  206,  215 

xx 


INDEX 

PAGE 

Skua,  (See  Jaeger) 

Sparrow          .         .         .          .         >          ,         .         .          .         .  •  i 

Savanna      .         .     "    ,         .     "-, ,         .         .         B         .        127 
Song         •    .          .;     ...         .          .  '       .  '       .          .  30 

White-throated  .    '      ,        ...         .         ;         ,         30 

Swallow,  Barn         .         .         v         „       '  .         .         .  29,  127—128 

Tree  .         .         „         .        •.         .         .         .         .          29 

Swan     .          ,          .          .      '/  .   '      .  *     -.          .          .          .          .        168 

Teal       .         .'      x  .         .         .         „         .  '       .         .   ;     185,  206,  209 

Blue-winged         .  .      .  171,  177,  180,  182,  185,  191,  209 

Green-winged       .         .         .•        .         .         .         172,  188,  191 

Tern      ..         .  65,  84,  108,  115-117,  130,  135,  140,  544-145 

Arctic          .         .         .         .  .         .         .        139—142 

Black  .         .         .         .         .         .    .          1,161,166-168 

Common      .         .  140.  142,  153—156,  162,  189,  191,  208 

Least 143-144 

Roseate      .         .         .         .   ',      .         .         .         .         .143 

Wilson's,  (See  Common) 
Ting-tang,  (See  Holboell's  Grebe) 
Turnstone      .         .         .  ••      ...         .         .         .         .        134 

Yellowlegs     .         ,         .         .         ......        134 

Warbler,  Mourning         ...         .         .         .         .         .         30 

Water  Witch,  (See  Grebe) 

Whale,  Fin-back     .         .         v         •         •         •         .         .         .         98 

Whale-bird    (See    Phalarope)          ...         .         .         .        121 

Whistler,  (See  Golden-eye) 
Widgeon,  American,  (See  Baldpate) 

Willet    .         . '  •     .         .         . 171 

Woodpecker,  Downy      ...         .         .         .         .         .          29 

Wren,   House         ......  29 


xxi 


AMONG    THE  WATER-FOWL 

THE  SUBMERGED  TENTH 

(Grebes   and  Loons) 


HE  seventh  day  of  a  recent  June  found 
me,  with  a  companion,  driving  over 
the  sun-baked,  fire-scorched  prairie  of 
North  Dakota,  within  a  few  miles  of 
the  international  boundary.  For  miles 
no  settler's  shack  had  been  sighted  to  break  the 
solitude.  No  pioneer  had  yet  overturned  the  sod  and 
sown  his  wheat,  or  erected  the  ugly  barbed  wire 
fence  to  compel  travel  "on  section  lines."  Not 
even  a  wagon-trail  offered  its  suggestion  ol  a  better 
way.  We  were  free  to  consult  the  compass,  and  lay 
our  course,  as  though  at  sea,  over  the  virgin  prairie, 
that  had  remained  just  as  the  Buffalo  had  left  it. 
Though  the  scenery  was  monotonous,  there  was  a 
certain  fascination  in  jogging  along  over  this  billowy 
grass  in  the  crisp,  stimulating  air,  with  the  frequent 
glimpses  of  birds  and  animal  life.  Ducks  flew  out 
from  the  little  wet  depressions.  A  covey  of  cock 
Pinnated  Grouse  whirred  away  from  a  weedy  spot. 
Meadowlarks,  Longspurs,  Sparrows  or  Prairie 
Horned  Larks  were  nearly  always  in  sight,  with 
Black  Terns  flitting  about.  At  any  time  we  were 
liable  to  see  a  Coyote  slinking  off  in  the  distance, 
a  Badger  dozing  by  its  hole,  or  to  start  a  Jack- 
Rabbit  and  see  it  speed  away  with  surprising  leaps. 
Gophers  scurried  to  their  burrows,  and  disappeared 
with  that  comical  little  whisk  of  the  tail  that  always 
forces  me  to  an  inward  smile. 


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35 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

We  were  driving  from  our  camp  on  the  wind- 
swept plain  by  Rush  Lake  to  a  small  lake,  or 
"slough,"  some  miles  farther  to  the  west,  which  a 
settler  had  told  us  swarmed  with  birds.  At  length 
it  lay  before  us,  a  third  of  a  mile  of  open  water, 
with  a  large  grassy  island  in  the  centre.  Many 
Ducks,  Coots  and  Grebes  were  in  sight ;  but  on  the 
shore  of  the  island  were  the  most  birds — a  great 
flock  fairly  darkening  the  area. 

Not  being  able  to  decide  from  that  distance  wiiat 
they  were,  I  resolved  to  wade  out  to  them.  Now 
Dakota  "sloughs"  —as  marshy  ponds  are  there 
called,  pronounced  "sloo" — are  generally  quite 
shallow;  but  a  few  steps  into  this  one  made  it  evi- 
dent that  boots  here  were  of  no  avail.  It  was 
pretty  cold  to  strip  for  the  task,  and  the  water  felt 
like  ice  ;  but  the  prospect  of  getting  out  in  the  sun 
upon  the  shore  of  the  island  before  coming  back  de- 
cided me  in  favour  of  the  project  and  I  started  in. 
At  every  step  difficulties  increased.  The  water  be- 
came breast  deep,  and  was  filled  from  bottom  to 
surface  with  decaying  vegetation.  After  every  half 
dozen  steps  I  had  to  stop  and  clear  myself  from 
the  great  island  that  had  collected  about  me.  For 
fifteen  minutes  I  struggled  on,  chilled,  but  intent 
upon  reaching  the  sunny  island  shore,  where  I  could 
don  the  garment  I  held  up  out  of  the  water,  and 
examine  at  my  leisure  the  many  nests  which  I 
expected  to  find. 

As  I  came  to  the  edge  of  an  area  of  long  grass 
that  had  hidden  from  me  what  was  beyond,  a  won- 
derful sight  met  my  eyes.  The  water  seemed  liter- 
ally alive  with  birds,  swimming  or  floating  upon  its 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

surface.  Sprinkled  about  everywhere  among  them 
were  what  looked  like  little  mounds.  Upon  nearly 
every  mound  sat  a  bird.  As  they  saw  me,  some  slid 
off  into  the  water,  while  others  industriously  pecked 
at  something.  Then  it  dawned  upon  me — I  had 
found  a  breeding  colony  of  the  American  Eared 
Grebe.  The  mounds  were  nests,  and  the  birds  were 
covering  their  eggs,  as  is  their  custom,  to  hide  them 
from  the  intruder. 

Soon  I  was  right  in  the  midst  of  the  Grebe  city. 
But  such  wet,  untidy,  uncomfortable  homes  they 
were,  as  contrasted  with  the  warm,  soft,  downy  beds 
that  Ducks  prepare,  the  substantial  structure  of  the 
Robin,  or  the  elaborately-woven  pouch  of  the 
Oriole  !  I  felt  that  I  was  in  the  slums  of  bird-dom. 
Here  was  the  problem  of  the  submerged  class  of 
their  society.  But  who,  after  all,  would  be  the 
happier  should  the  Grebe  ascend  from  the  bottom 
round  of  the  ladder  of  classification,  and,  forsaking 
his  fish  relations  and  his  habits  of  submergence,  make 
a  cleaner  nest  ashore,  and  waddle  awkwardly  on 
dry  land? 

At  my  approach  the  Grebes  all  left  their  nests, 
though  in  some  cases  the  anxious  owners  lingered 
to  cover  their  treasures  until  I  was  almost  upon 
them.  This  enabled  me  to  watch  carefully  the 
whole  process.  The  bird  arose  from  a  prostrate 
position  upon  the  eggs,  and  assumed  one  more  or 
less  upright,  squatting  upon  the  rurnp,  to  one  side 
of  the  eggs.  Reaching  over,  she  seized  with  the 
bill  a  piece  of  floating  grass  close  at  hand,  and  laid 
it  across  them.  Sometimes  she  would  fish  out  quite 
a  bunch  at  one  haul.  If  possible,  she  kept  at  it 


THE   SUBMERGED   TENTH 

until  the  eggs  were  entirely  hidden,  when  she  would 
slide  off  into  the  water  with  a  push  of  the  feet  that 
gave  quite  a  little  momentum.  Some  of  them  dove 
at  once  and  came  up  a  short  distance  away,  while 
others  remained  on  the  surface.  The  fact  of  my 
having  only  head  and  shoulders  out  of  water  evi- 
dently made  tnem  less  afraid  of  me  than  they  would 
have  been  had  I  been  in  a  boat.  The  birds  were 
more  or  less  scattered  about  in  the  lake,  yet  groups 
of  them  remained  within  a  few  feet  of  me,  appar- 
ently trying  to  make  out  what  new  species  of  Musk- 
rat  this  could  be. 

I  should  judge  that  there  must  have  been  up- 
wards of  a  hundred  nests  right  around  me,  and  how 
many  more  .there  were  off  in  the  grass  I  cannot  say. 
Certainly  it  was  a  large  colony,  for  the  whole  slough 
seemed  alive  with  Grebes,  and  all  of  the  one  species. 
The  nests  were  floating  quite  close  together,  often 
touching  one  another.  There  was  very  little  grass 
growing  out  of  the  water,  and  the  nests  were  not 
anchored,  except  as  they  rested  more  or  less  on  the 
floating  debris.  This  held  them  in  a  measure,  but 
it  seemed  likely  that  a  strong  wind  might  drive 
them  from  their  location.  Most  of  the  nests  were 
covered,  and  I  bobbed  about  among  them,  removing 
the  coverings  to  see  how  many  eggs  there  were.  It 
was  evident  that  the  laying  operations  of  the  colony 
were  not  complete,  for  some  of  the  nests  were 
empty,  or  had  but  a  single  egg.  Only  two  that  I 
saw  had  as  many  as  five  eggs,  three  or  four  being 
the  usual  number. 

These  observations  made,  I  stayed  for  nothing 
further;  indeed  haste  was  necessary,  for  my  sunny 

5 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

isje,  whereon  I  had  hoped  to  warm  myself,  proved 
to  be  a  delusion  ;  and  I  realized  that  submersion 
did  not  make  me  a  Grebe,  for  I  was  already  shud- 
dering with  the  cold.  So,  hurriedly  placing  a  few 
sets  of  eggs  in  the  creel  that  I  had  dragged  out 
over  the  water,  I  reluctantly  returned  from  my  bird- 
slumland,  and  made  for  the  shore,  which  I  finally 
reached,  shivering  and  shuddering,  after  being  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  in  the  icy  water.  Though  it 
was  an  uncomfortable  experience,  I  was  more  than 
repaid  by  what  I  had  seen.  My  one  sorrow  was 
that  it  was  impracticable  to  use  the  camera. 

Rush  Lake  is  an  area  some  twelve  miles  long  and 
four  wide,  with  water  only  waist  deep,  out  of  which 
grows  long  grass  and  occasional  patches  of  tall 
rushes.  Years  ago,  it  is  said  to  have  been  entirely 
open,  but  now  even  an  open  lane  is  a  rarity.  A 
settler  piloted  us  to  it  the  first  day.  After  walking 
a  mile  or  more,  he  suddenly  announced — "  Well, 
here  we  are."  "  But  where  is  the  lake,"  I  asked, 
looking  perplexedly  over  the  grassy  plain  ?  "  This 
is  it,  right  before  you/'  was  the  reply.  My  first 
feeling  was  of  great  disappointment,  but  as  Ducks  of 
all  sorts  began  to  fly  out  in  squadrons  along  the 
margin,  I  was  soon  reassured. 

The  day  after  the  Grebe  colony  incident,  I  spent 
the  morning  alone  near  the  west  end  of  Rush  Lake, 
if  end,  indeed,  there  was,  my  friend  agreeing  to 
drive  the  team  up  for  me  after  dinner.  In  time,  I 
waded  out  to  quite  an  open  lead  of  water,  adjoining 
which  many  Coots  had  their  nests  in  the  grass. 
Over  near  the  other  side  were  fifty  or  more  Eared 
Grebes  swimming  about,  evidently  another  colony. 

6 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

This  time  I  was  determined  not  to  be  thwarted.  So, 
when  my  companion  appeared,  we  drove  back, 
hitched  the  bow  of  a  canoe  to  the  back  of  the  wagon 
and,  after  dragging  it  more  than  a  mile  over  rough, 
wet  ground,  I  managed  to  get  afloat  in  it  with  camera 
and  all  needed  apparatus.  As  I  came  within  sight 
of  the  Grebes,  they  sank  like  stones,  a  submerged 
company  indeed,  for  I  saw  them  no  more,  save  for 
an  occasional  head  thrust  momentarily  out  of  the 
water  to  reconnoitre.  One  of  them  I  saw  swim 
under  the  boat,  only  a  little  way  below  the  surface. 
It  used  wings  and  feet  as  oars,  and  was  indeed  flying 
through  the  water.  But  what  of  the  nests?  Not 
one  could  I  find,  though  I  explored  the  edges  of  the 
open  water  all  around,  and  penetrated  into  the  grass 
in  every  direction.  No  photographs  of  Grebe 
colonies  was  it  that  season  my  lot  to  take. 

But  the  time  came  when  this  ambition  was  grati- 
fied. Late  last  June  I  was  encamped,  with  three 
companions,  upon  the  timbered  shore  of  another  large 
Dakota  lake.  One  morning,  we  were  poling  a 
heavy  boat,  the  only  one  available,  through  a  maze 
of  grass  growing  out  of  four  feet  of  water,  far 
out  from  shore.  Another  push,  and  we  glided  to 
a  partial  opening,  where  a  wonderful  sight  greeted 
us.  We  had  run  with  our  boat  almost  into  a 
large  colony  of  American  Eared  Grebes,  sur- 
prising the  birds  right  upon  their  nests.  Perhaps 
they  had  heard  enough  to  arouse  their  suspicions,  for 
they  were  in  the  act  of  covering  their  eggs.  But  no 
sooner  did  they  see  our  heads  over  the  grass  than 
there  was  a  general  plunge,  which  sounded  like  the 
beating  of  a  rain-squall  as  it  first  strikes  a  body  of 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

water.  Every  Grebe  dove ;  but  in  a  few  moments 
we  saw  them  emerge  in  large  numbers  out  in  the 
open  water  beyond. 

Here  were  the  slums  of  a  larger  Grebe  city  than 
I  had  seen  before,  and  this  time  I  was  in  better  con- 
dition to  inspect  it.  There  were  over  a  hundred  of 
the  little  wet  mounds  close  together  in  a  compact 
area,  and  no  knowing  how  many  more  further  in 
through  the  grass.  I  did  not  like  to  push  the  boat 
in,  as  it  would  involve  the  overturning  and  destruc- 
tion of  a  great  many  nests,  so  was  content  with  a 
somewhat  superficial  examination  of  the  colony. 
The  birds  had  been  able  in  every  case  to  cover  their 
eggs  before  retreating.  Pulling  off  the  layer  of  wet 
debris  from  a  number  of  the  nearer  nests,  we  found 
that  the  usual  number  of  the  eggs  was  three,  the 
largest  five.  Other  nests  were  empty,  or  with  only 
one  or  two  eggs. 

Then  as  we  looked  off,  we  saw,  some  distance 
away,  hosts  of  other  Grebes  sitting  or  standing  upon 
their  floating  nests,  and  realized  that  what  we  were 
inspecting  was  only  the  suburbs  of  the  real  city. 
Toward  this  we  directed  the  boat.  The  Grebes, 
seeing  us  approach,  slid  off  into  the  water  while  we 
were  still  at  quite  a  distance,  and  in  squadrons 
paddled  out  farther  into  the  lake.  Reaching  the 
place,  we  found  that  a  lane  of  water,  "  Broadway," 
I  called  it,  divided  the  city  into  an  east  and  west  side. 

On  the  "  east  side,"  along  the  edge  of  a  tract  of 
grass,  the  nests  were  crowded,  four  or  five  deep,  for 
some  distance.  A  mass  of  them,  perhaps  about 
thirty,  extended  in  a  sort  of  neck  out  into  the  open 
water.  Conditions  here,  as  might  be  expected,  were 

9 


10 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

simply  scandalous.  Eggs  lay  rotting  in  the  watery 
streets,  in  one  spot  as  many  as  fifteen  together,  the 
result,  probably,  either  of  a  storm  or  a  squabble. 
Debris  of  all  sorts  was  strewn  around  with  utter  in- 
difference to  the  public  health.  The  houses  were 
low,  untidy  affairs,  reeking  with  water  and  decay, 
huddled  together  in  hopeless  confusion.  So  unstable 
is  their  foundation  that  quite  a  mass  of  them  had 
drifted  off"  in  some  storm,  and  were  scattered  about, 
overgrown  with  green  scum,  the  eggs  washed  and 
bleached  by  the  overlapping  water. 

Conditions  on  the  "west  side"  were  hardly 
better.  The  congestion  was  even  worse.  Nests  in 
close  contact  formed  a  considerable  area,  extending 
in  through  the  sparse  grass  to  some  more  open  water. 
It  seems  to  me  that  the  nests  in  these  Grebe  cities 
are  smaller  and  more  slovenly  built  than  where  a 
pair  build  a  solitary  nest.  The  wonder  is  how 
such  flimsy  affairs  can  keep  the  eggs  and  the  in- 
cubating birds  above  water.  The  husband  evi- 
dently has  to  lead  a  street  life,  with  little  to  occupy 
him  except  to  pick  up  food,  and  receive  the 
youngsters,  which  hatch  one  by  one,  and  swim  ofF 
as  soon  as  they  are  born.  Perhaps  he  may  antici- 
pate the  mother's  task,  and  ride  the  little  waifs 
around  on  his  back. 

When  at  last  we  retired  with  the  boat,  the 
Grebes  swam  back.  Some  resumed  incubation, 
while  others  in  parties  promenaded  up  and  down 
"  Broadway,"  in  some  cases  taking  their  children, 
that  had  been  hiding  away  in  the  grass,  out  for  a 
ride.  It  was  an  odd  sight  to  see  the  crop  of  little 
heads  sticking  out  from  under  the  parent's  wing. 

1 1 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

Before  leaving,  I  found  it  easy  to  photograph 
these  areas  of  nests  from  the  boat  by  snap-shots,  but  a 
very  different  matter  to  have  any  of  the  Grebes  in  the 
pictures,  as  they  were  quite  shy  of  the  boat.  Finding 
that  they  would  not  come  jiear  enough  for  a  snap- 
shot, I  stood  up  an  old  tripod,  with  a  focus  cloth 
over  the  top,  in  the  grass  a  little  back  from  the 
"east  side,"  leaving  it  for  the  birds  to  become 
accustomed  to  the  sight.  Next  day,  the  wind  was 
raging,  and  my  companions  did  not  think  I  could 
carry  out  my  plan  of  getting  out  there  alone  in  the 
boat  to  spend  the  day  by  the  colony.  After  a  long, 
desperate  effort  I  managed  to  reach  it.  The  birds 
were  mostly  on  their  nests,  ignoring  the  tripod. 

The  pathway  to  success  now  seemed  easy  ;  but 
thorny  did  it  prove.  Moving  the  tripod  a  little 
nearer  to  the  nests,  I  adjusted  the  camera,  attached 
the  spool  of  thread,  and  allowed  the  boat  to  drift  off 
to  leeward,  paying  out  the  line.  So  busy  was  I  that 
I  had  not  noticed  a  gathering  squall,  that  just  at  this 
untimely  juncture  struck  down  with  furious  blast. 
The  shutter  was  sprung,  and  I  had  to  lose  the  end 
of  the  thread,  not  being  able  to  check  the  progress  or 
the  boat  in  time.  As  it  was,  the  camera  was  nearly 
pulled  or  blown  over  into  the  water.  Nothing  but 
the  fact  that  I  had  spliced  poles  to  the  legs  of  the 
tripod  and  driven  them  firmly  into  the  mud  pre- 
vented what  would  have  been  to  me  out  there  in  the 
wilderness  an  irreparable  disaster.  Then  ensued  a 
mighty  struggle  to  get  back  to  the  camera  to  pro- 
tect it  from  the  rain.  It  was  almost  impossible  for 
one  person  alone  to  push  that  clumsy  boat  through 
the  tangle  of  grass  and  slime  against  the  wind,  but  I 


12 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

finally  accomplished  it,  pulled  the  precious  instru- 
ment on  board,  covered  it  with  the  rubber  cloth, 
and  let  the  rain  beat  down. 

After  the  shower  had  passed,  I  proceeded  to 
arrange  the  camera  again.  Learning  wisdom  by 
experience,  I  pushed  the  boat  across  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  area  of  grass  where  the  nests  were — a 
distance  of  about  the  length  of  my  thread — planted 
a  pole  firmly  in  the  muddy  bottom,  tied  the  thread 
to  it,  and  then  poled  back  to  the  camera  with  the 
other  end  of  the  thread,  which  I  fastened  to  the 
shutter.  In  this  way  there  was  less  danger  of  pull- 
ing the  thread  prematurely,  or  of  getting  it  en- 
tangled in  the  grass.  Then  I  rowed  around  to  the 
pole  by  way  of  the  open  water,  tied  the  boat  to  the 
pole,  and  lay  down  on  the  bottom,  thread  in  hand, 
to  await  developments. 

After  quite  a  while  the  Grebes  began  to  swim 
back  in  small  parties,  and  promenade  up  and  down 
"  Broadway."  Two  of  them  approached  their  nests, 
and  climbed  up  awkwardly  upon  them.  Their 
purpose  was  to  cover  their  eggs  more  perfectly  than 
in  their  haste  they  had  done  when  the  boat  was 
approaching.  As  soon  as  this  had  been  accom- 
plished, they  slid  off  into  the  water  and  rejoined 
their  companions.  Unfortunately  they  were  not 
quite  in  the  range  of  the  camera,  so  I  lost  a  splendid 
chance  for  an  interesting  picture.  I  thought  that 
in  the  course  of  things  they  would  all  go  back,  but 
time  passed,  and  not  another  one  did  so.  Finally  I 
rowed  over  there  and  uncovered  some  of  the  eggs, 
hoping  that  this  would  induce  the  owners  to  come 
and  cover  them. 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

Though  I  did  not  succeed  in  this,  the  effort  was 
not  wholly  in  vain,  for  through  it  I  learned  the 
reason  for  this  habit.  This  breeding  colony  of  the 
Eared  Grebes  closely  adjoined  a  far  larger  one  of 
thousands  of  the  Franklin's  Rosy  Gull.  Hardly 


A     FRANKLIN  S     ROSY     GULL     EATING     EGGS     OF     EARED     GREBE,     ON     •    EAST 
SIDE."       THE    OWNER    WATCHING. 

had  I  returned  to  my  anchorage,  when  a  Gull  alit 
upon  one  of  the  nests  which  I  had  uncovered,  and 
proceeded  to  pierce  the  eggs  with  its  bill  and  devour 
the  contents.  I  pulled  the  string  and  exposed  a 
plate  upon  this  interesting  procedure.  The  picture 

14 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

shows  the  Gull  with  its  bill  thrust  down  into  an 
egg,  and  a  single  Grebe  in  the  water  just  beyond 
watching  attentively  what  was  probably  the  spolia- 
tion of  its  home.  Perhaps  it  was  fear  of  the  camera 
that  prevented  the  naturally  expected  attack  upon 
the  marauder. 

Another  plate  had  then  to  be  inserted,  which 
I  finally  exposed  when  a  party  of  Grebes  were 
swimming  by,  just  in  front  of  the  nests.  These 
were  the  only  two  pictures  secured  in  the  greater 
part  of  a  day  of  hard  labour  and  nerve-wearing  toil. 
After  this  the  thread  became  almost  hopelessly 
tangled,  and,  despite  long,  exasperating  effort,  I 
got  only  another  fogged  plate  at  about  sundown. 
And  it  was  the  last  chance,  too.  Then,  as  I  was 
taking  up  the  camera,  at  eight  o'clock  and  after,  it 
dawned  upon  me  that  I  had  forgotten  to  eat  my 
dinner,  though  I  had  it  with  me  in  the  boat. 
When  I  returned  to  camp  almost  at  dark,  the  com- 
pany made  merry  over  a  fellow  so  much  interested 
in  birds  that  he  needed  a  caretaker  to  remind  him 
when  he  must  eat.  "  A  veritable  rustic/'  perhaps 
the  Grebes  had  been  saying,  staring  all  day,  open- 
mouthed  and  absent-minded,  at  the  sights  of  their 
great  city. 


Within  ten  miles  of  this  spot  was  another 
equally  interesting,  though  very  different  Grebe-city. 
Extending  far  out  from  the  shore,  in  water  waist 
deep  or  more,  grew  a  great  area  of  canes,  ten  or 
twelve  feet  high.  To  get  at  it  from  where  we  had 
pitched  our  tent,  I  had  first  to  wade  across  an  arm 

is 


i6 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

of  the  lake,  shoulder  deep.  Then,  after  walking 
a  mile  along  the  shore  of  the  lake,  clad  in  a  suit  of 
underwear  for  protection  against  an  abounding 
poisonous  water-plant,  I  forced  my  way  in  through 
the  thicket  of  canes.  About  a  hundred  yards  from 
the  shore  I  entered  the  suburbs  of  the  city  in- 
habited by  the  Western  Grebe — a  great  loon-like 


ONE  OF  THE  MANY  NESTS  OF  THE  WESTERN  GREBE 

creature,  the  largest  species  of  the  order — and  the 
Eared  Grebe.  In  the  shadow  of  the  tall  canes  I 
seemed  to  be  in  some  sort  of  a  submerged  tropical 
forest.  The  leaves  of  the  canes  were  thicker 
towards  the  top,  while  lower  down  the  stems  were 
bare,  like  miniature  palm-trunks,  through  which 
one  could  see  only  for  a  few  feet.  In  this  shady 
retreat,  floating  between  the  stems,  were  the  nests  of 
the  Grebes,  on  the  average  about  two  yards  apart. 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

As  I  slowly  waded  along,  I  could  hear  a  constant 
succession  of  splashing,  plunging  sounds,  as  the 
birds  dove  from  their  nests  to  swim  off  under  water. 
When  I  stood  still  for  a  few  moments,  they  would 
return  and  suddenly  emerge,  sometimes  within  a 
yard  of  me,  only  to  plunge  again  the  instant  they 
caught  sight  of  the  intruder. 

These  grebe-homes,  especially  of  the  larger 
species,  were  quite  substantial  affairs.  Even  the 
little  "  Eared  "  fellows  made  better  nests  than  in 
the  other  city  where  they  were  so  huddled  together. 
Possibly  they  were  trying  not  to  be  outdone  by  the 
"  Westerners,"  or  else  the  latter,  who  were  in  the 
majority,  had  enacted  certain  building  regulations 
within  the  city  limits!  Yet,  though  the  homes 
were  larger,  it  was  evident  that  they  belonged  to 
the  lower  classes  of  bird  society.  This  city,  like 
the  other,  was  shamefully  dirty.  Eggs  and  even 
dead  birds  lay  rotting  in  the  water  between  the 
nests.  The  odour  was  so  unpleasant  as  almost  to 
nauseate  our  guide,  who  afterwards  ventured  in 
with  me.  As  for  rriyself,  I  was  so  much  taken  up 
with  the  novelty  of  the  situation  that  the  "  mind- 
cure"  effectually  performed  its  work. 

How  far  the  city  extended,  and  what  was  its 
population,  I  made  no  great  effort  to  ascertain,  as 
even  a  moderate  degree  of  progress  was  very  dif- 
ficult. Wherever  I  went  there  were  nests,  acres 
and  acres  of  them.  In  parts  of  the  town  the  larger 
species  dwelt  alone;  in  others  the  nests  of  the  two 
kinds  were  intermingled  in  about  equal  numbers. 
Three  eggs  was  the  usual  complement  in  the  nests 
of  both  species,  often  four,  but  more  than  that  I  did 

18 


A    WESTERN     GREBE     IN     A     "  CITY     PARK 


20 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

not  discover,  except  where  a  Grebe  of  either  kind 
had  laid  in  a  nest  of  the  other.  It  would  be  inter- 
esting to  know  what  is  the  state  of  mind  that  causes 
various  species  of  birds  that  colonize  together  to  lay- 
in  each  other's  nests.  It  may  be  through  mistake, 
yet,  as  in  the  present  case,  when  the  eggs  of  one 
kind  are  twice  the  size  of  the  other,  it  seems  as 
though  the  bird  would  detect  the  difference.  I  can 
imagine,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the  little  Grebe 
might  find  the  larger  nest  attractive,  but  not  so 
readily  what  the  big  Grebe  thinks  as  it  finds  the 
smaller  home  which  it  has  usurped  about  sinking 
under  its  weight. 

There  were  no  street-signs  in  the  city,  and, 
though  city  bred,  I  found  myself  rustic  enough  to 
be  in  danger  of  getting  lost  in  the  colymbine 
(Colymbus)  labyrinths.  As  luck  would  have  it,  the 
usual  daily  June  thunder-shower  (of  this  season) 
came  up  before  I  was  half  through  my  exploration. 
Covering  the  camera  and  plates  with  the  rubber 
cloth,  my  upper  half  was  soon  as  wet  as  the  rest. 
For  a  considerable  time  the  sun  was  obscured. 
There  was  no  way  of  looking  over  the  tops  of  the 
canes  to  note  the  direction  of  the  shore,  and  I 
might  have  wandered  about  there  indefinitely,  had 
not  the  welcome  sun  again  shone  forth.  Next 
time  I  brought  a  compass,  and  felt  more  secure. 

Here  and  there  in  this  city  were  pond-like 
openings  in  the  canes,  with  open  water,  the  city 
parks,  I  called  them — breathing-places  for  the 
Grebe-multitudes.  Standing  in  water  waist-deep  or 
more  by  one  of  these,  I  shivered  and  watched  the 
ways  of  the  Grebes.  This  opening  was  some  thirty 

21 


NOW      AND      THEN      A      SMALL      GROUP      OF      THJS       EARED      GREBES 
WOULD  PADDLE     ACROSS     THE     OPENING" 


22 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

feet  in  diameter,  and  was  surrounded  by  nests  in  the 
adjacent  canes.  The  owners  had  been  frightened 
away,  but,  as  I  stood  quietly,  they  would  emerge 
from  the  open  water  as  a  convenient  place  for  more 
extended  observation,  take  a  look  at  me,  and  then 
dive.  I  found  that  by  standing  back  a  little  in  the 
canes  they  did  not  notice  me  so  much,  and,  some- 
what reassured,  would  promenade  across  the  park, 
back  and  forth.  Now  and  then,  a  small  group  of 
the  Eared  Grebes  would  swim  out  from  the  reeds, 
gaze  around,  and  paddle  across  the  opening.  One 
of  these  Grebes  brought  out  a  chick  for  a  ride. 
The  little  one  was  under  the  parent's  wing,  only  its 
head  sticking  out,  seemingly  having  a  fine  time. 
Then  one  of  the  great  Western  Grebes  would  break 
water,  and  swim  with  only  its  long  slender  white 
neck  out,  and  the  merest  suggestion  of  a  back,  look- 
ing more  like  a  water-snake  than  a  bird.  Here  was 
an  opportunity  for  Grebe-photography  which  I 
eagerly  improved.  Planting  the  tripod  at  the  edge 
of  the  canes,  I  arranged  the  camera,  using  the 
ampliscope  lens  to  secure  a  larger  image,  and 
focused  on  the  further  side  of  the  park,  where  most 
of  the  Grebes  appeared.  Then,  with  a  thread 
attached  to  the  shutter,  I  retired  a  few  paces,  and 
took  snaps  at  various  Grebes  of  both  sorts,  till 
gathering  clouds  compelled  me  to  desist. 

I  had  been  wondering  what  was  the  cause  of  the 
evident  destruction  of  life  in  the  Grebe-city.  As  I 
stood  there  motionless  in  the  canes,  a  partial  solu- 
tion was  suggested.  A  nest  of  the  Western  Grebe 
with  one  egg  lay  almost  within  arm's  reach.  Sud- 
denly a  large  Muskrat  emerged  close  by,  and 

24 


ANOTHER     WESTERN     GREBE 


STILL     ANOTHER     WESTERN     GREBE 
26 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

crawled  out  upon  the  nest.  First  he  glanced  around, 
and  though  looking  right  at  me,  did  not  seem  either 
to  perceive  or  to  care — I  could  not  tell  which. 
Next  he  smelled  the  egg  all  over,  poking  it  with 
his  nose.  I  thought  I  would  now  catch  him  red- 
handed.  But  either  the  animal  was  looking  for 
something  else,  or  scented  danger,  for  directly  he 
ambled  down  to  the  water's  edge  and  plunged. 
Muskrat  houses  were  numerous,  and  it  is  hard  not  to 
suspect  the  occupants  of  enjoying  something  more 
than  a  vegetable  diet.  If  guilty,  however,  Minks 
may  also  have  a  share  in  shedding  Grebe-blood. 

By  this  time  I  was  chilled  and  shivering,  so 
began  the  retreat,  and,  after  two  hours  and  a  half 
of  exposure,  was  glad  to  set  foot  on  dry  land.  The 
Grebes  had  a  splendid  city,  no  doubt,  according  to 
their  ideas,  but  I  did  not  envy  them  at  all  their 
happy,  slovenly  ways,  or  their  wet  civic  prosperity. 


Another  interesting  jaunt  was  into  the  Turtle 
Mountain  country,  the  wooded  area  of  Dakota, 
some  two  thousand  square  miles  of  low,  rolling, 
rocky  hills,  covered  with  a  growth  largely  of 
poplar.  Every  hollow  between  these  hills  is  occu- 
pied by  a  lake,  varying  in  size  from  "  Fish  Lake  J 
in  the  interior,  a  number  of  miles  in  length,  down 
to  little  ponds  of  a  few  acres.  They  are  entirely 
different  from  the  marshy,  shallow  prairie  lakes,  or 
sloughs,  being  clear  and  deep,  with  pebbly  bottoms, 
though  there  are  a  very  few  that  resemble  the 
sloughs.  The  woods  grow  nearly  or  quite  to  the 
water's  edge,  and  there  is  a  border  of  round- 

27 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 


stemmed  reeds  for  a  few  yards  out.  They  are 
much  like  the  typical  New  England  pond,  and,  like 
them,  have — comparatively — few  water-fowl. 

There  are  some,  however,  and  one  of  the  most 
characteristic  I  found  to  be  the  large  Holboell's 
Grebe,  the  only  Grebe,  in  fact,  that  I  saw  in  the 
region.  I  met  them  only  in  solitary  pairs,  nesting 

in  the  outer  edge 
of  the  reeds  on 
the  shores  of  the 
ponds.  One  of 
the  first  birds 
that  I  noticed  as 
we  drove  in  from 
the  prairie  was 
one  of  these 
Grebes  swim- 
ming in  a  small 
pond  near  some 
reedy  clumps. 
Next  day  I 
walked  back 
there.  The  bird 
was  on  guard, 
and  its  mate  swam  out  from  the  reeds  at  my 
approach.  There  was  the  nest  amid  the  reeds  in 
about  three  feet  of  water,  a  large  floating  pile  of  wet, 
decayed  stems.  The  five  dirty  white  eggs,  as  large 
again  as  those  of  the  Eared  Grebe,  were  covered. 
With  some  drift-wood  I  managed  to  arrange  a  stand- 
ing place,  from  which  I  photographed  the  nest. 

Usually  but  one  pair  was  found  in  a  small  pond, 
and  when,  in   the  larger   ones,   there  were  several, 

28 


NEST     OF     HOLBOELL  S     GREBE 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

no  two  nests  were  very  near  together.  The  habit 
of  the  birds  on  these  clear  lakes  of  patrolling  near 
the  nest  renders  this  very  easy  to  find.  I  liked  to 
stand  still,  nearly  hidden  in  the  reeds,  and  see  the 
graceful  lovers,  close  together,  glide  in  so  near  to 
me  that  I  could  note  every  detail  of  plumage  and 
motion.  The  red  patches  on  the  sides  of  the  neck 
fairly  glowed  in  the  sun,  as  though  they  might 
easily  do  the  same  at  night  of  their  own  radiance. 

During  my  stay  in  the  Turtle  Mountains,  I 
found  several  nests  of  the  Holboeirs  Grebe.  One 
was  of  more  than  ordinary  interest.  I  saw  the  bird 
swim  out  from  the  reeds,  as  usual,  and  right  there 
was  the  nest,  with,  three  eggs  and  the  two  segments 
of  the  shell  of  a  hatched  egg.  The  youthful  occu- 
pant had  evidently  just  emerged,  and  there  it  was  in 
the  water,  trying  to  follow  its  mother.  I  waded 
farther  out,  and  the  little  fellow,  either  in  confu- 
sion, or  seeking  a  friend,  swam  back  to  me,  looking 
up  into  my  face.  I  picked  it  up,  a  curious  tiger- 
striped  thing,  so  long  and  slim  that  it  reminded  me 
of  a  weasel.  Then  I  replaced  it  in  the  nest,  but  at 
the  first  opportunity  it  scrambled  out,  and  dis- 
appeared among  the  reeds.  In  two  of  the  eggs  I 
could  hear  the  young  chirping. 

I  went  back  to  camp  for  dinner,  and  then  re- 
turned to  the  Grebes'  nest.  On  the  way  I  investi- 
gated the  home  of  some  Purple  Martins  in  a 
Flickers'  hole,  well  up  a  tall,  slippery  poplar  stub, 
finding,  after  a  hard  struggle,  that  the  nest  contained 
five  eggs.  This  species,  Barn  and  Tree  Swallows, 
Bronzed  Crackles,  Flickers,  Downy  Woodpeckers, 
Sapsuckers,  House  Wrens  and  Red-tailed  Hawks  I 

29 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

found  to  be  the  common  species  of  the  poplar 
growth,  with  a  few  Sparrow  Hawks,  Song  and 
White-throated  Sparrows,  Mourning  Warblers,  and 
doubtless  other  small  birds,  sprinkled  in.  No  more 
of  the  Grebes'  eggs,  I  found,  had  hatched,  but  the 
loose  egg-shells  were  gone,  as  was  the  youngster. 
One  of  the  shells  I  found  about  ten  yards  from  the 

nest,  floating 
among  the  reeds, 
whither  the  old 
bird,  no  doubt, 
had  carried  it. 

This  large 
Grebe  seems  not 
very  common  in 
Dakota,  though  I 
met  it  sparingly 
in  the  larger  fresh 
water  lakes.  But 
everywhere  in  the 
prairie  sloughs 

NEST    OF    PIED-BILLED    GREBE,   NORTH    DAKOTA  .  .1 

one    m  e  e  r  s     cne 

familiar  Pied-billed  and  Horned  Grebes,  as  well  as 
the  Eared.  I  did  not  find  these  first  two  in  colonies, 
but  each  pair  nesting  by  itself,  usually  well  out  in 
the  deepest  water.  One  day  I  was  exploring  a  large 
slough  in  a  boat  that  I  had  carted  miles  for  the  pur- 
pose, when  I  came  upon  a  small  Grebes'  nest  with 
one  egg,,  out  in  nearly  open  water,  anchored  to  a 
few  stems  of  grass.  Quite  near  it  was  a  Horned 
Grebe  that  probably  was  the  owner.  The  wind 
was  violent,  and  the  waves  were  breaking  over  the 
nest  all  the  time.  Probably  other  eggs  had  been 

3° 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

washed  out,  for  it  was  late  in  the  nesting  season — 
nearly  the  last  of  June.  This  must  be  a  very  com- 
mon occurrence,  for  the  Grebe  will  not  learn 
wisdom.  Yet  even  though  the  creature  itself  be 
submerged,  it  is  hardly  to  be  supposed  that  sub- 
merged eggs  will  hatch,  or  that  the  deluge  here  in 


ANOTHER     PIED-BILLED     GREBE'S     NEST     WITHIN     A     FEW      RODS      OF      PRE- 
CEDING,   CONTAINING    NINE    EGGS,    AS    COVERED    BY    THE    OWNER. 
BY    A.    C.     BENT 

progress  was  altogether  pleasing  to  the  otherwise 
contented  "  Water-witch,"  unless  for  the  fact  that 
the  surviving  egg  was  much  cleaner  than  usual. 

It  is  no  easy  matter  to  identify  scattered  single 
nests  of  the  smaller  Grebes.  Seldom,  except  in 
colonies,  have  I  been  able  to  see  a  Grebe  actually 
on  the  nest.  A  very  common  and  well-known 

3' 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

habit  of  theirs  is,  on  warm  days,  to  cover  the  eggs 
with  wet  debris,  and  leave  them  for  the  sun,  and 
the  heat  generated  by  the  decaying  vegetation,  to 
act  upon.  And  it  is  remarkable  how  generally  they 
hatch.  But  it  is  not  true  of  any  species  that  they 
never  incubate  on  warm  days.  In  one  instance  I 
saw  a  Horned  Grebe  on  its  nest  in  early  afternoon. 
Many  a  time  I  have  come  upon  single  nests  whose 
eggs  were  uncovered  and  very  warm.  There  is 
almost  invariably,  in  such  cases,  a  protecting  screen 
of  rushes,  and  the  bird  evidently  has  just  slipped  off 
before  being  seen.  However,  in  one  way  or  other, 
the  owner  of  the  nest  is  almost  sure  to  be  out  of 
sight  when  the  observer  approaches.  Sometimes 
the  three  smaller  kinds  all  nest  intermingled  in  one 
slough,  and  then  the  confusion  is  nearly  hopeless. 
The  only  way  to  identify  them  is  to  hide  some 
distance  away  and  watch.  After  a  time  one  or 
both  owners  may  appear,  and,  by  patrolling  near 
the  nest,  show  their  interest  and  decide  the 
ownership. 

If  the  number  of  eggs  is  large,  they  are  quite 
apt  to  belong  to  the  Dabchick,  as  they  probably  do 
anyhow,  if  the  locality  is  in  the  eastern  United 
States.  Still,  I  have  known  the  Horned  Grebe  to 
lay  as  many  as  seven.  Last  summer  I  was  in  a 
slough  where  the  Dabchick  abounded,  and  I  found 
the  largest  Grebe-set  in  my  experience — of  nine 
eggs.  Five  or  six  seems  to  be  the  usual  number  for 
that  species  to  lay,  four  or  five  for  the  Horned,  and 
three  or  four  for  the  others. 

The  time  was  when  I  supposed  that  Grebes 
were  very  silent  creatures.  But  camping  by  a  little 

32 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

open  lake  which  was  frequented  by  a  pair  of 
Horned  Grebes,  I  was  able  to  trace  to  their  author- 
ship certain  loud  cries  of  whose  origin  I  had  been 
uncertain.  The  sounds  began  as  a  quick  chatter, 
ending  with  several  prolonged  notes  that  I  can  only 
describe  as  yells.  They  seemed  to  keep  up  this 
noise  all  night,  for  I  often  lay  awake  listening  to  it, 
not  disturbed,  but  thoroughly  enjoying  it,  thinking 
how  fortunate  I  was  to  be  living  in  such  good  com- 
pany !  By  day,  when  the  water  was  calm,  I  could 
see  flocks  of  Grebes  out  on  the  larger  lake  near  by, 
and  hear  from  them  the  same  or  similar  quaverings. 
First  one  would  cry  out,  then  another  would  take 
up  the  strain,  and  still  others,  until  there  was  noise 
enough  for  the  most  ardent  lover  of  bird-choruses. 
And  no  less  peculiar  are  the  cries  of  the  big 
Western  Grebe,  which  I  heard  on  all  sides  as  I 
waded  about  through  their  colony  in  the  canes. 
They  are  utterly  different  from  the  notes  just  de- 
scribed— a  shrill,  grating  trill,  not  nearly  so  loud, 
with  a  metallic  quality,  all  in  one  key,  like  an 
"  anvil  chorus,"  or  even  the  tinkle  of  a  small  alarm 
clock. 


My  experiences  with  Grebes  in  the  East  have 
been  of  a  very  different  order  from  those  of  the 
prairie  sloughs  of  the  West.  Here  I  have  known 
them  largely  as  migrants,  or  winterers  on  our  bleak 
coast.  The  exception  to  this  was  a  delightful 
sojourn  among  the  Horned  Grebes  in  their  summer 
haunts  on  the  Magdalen  Islands,  in  the  ponds  near 
"  East  Point "  which  Audubon  refers  to  in  his 

33 


.34 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

Journals.  Here  they  were  the  only  Grebe,  and 
nested  abundantly,  one  pair  to  each  of  the  little 
ponds,  and  several  each  to  the  larger  ones,  building 
floating  nests  out  in  the  reeds,  as  usual.  The 
Dabchick  also  nests  in  the  East — from  New  England 
northward.  It  rarely,  however,  remains  as  far  south 
as  Massachusetts  or  Connecticut,  so  I  have  had  to 
await  its  advent  in  September  to  our  retired  ponds. 


NEST    OF    HORNED    GREBE,    MAGDALEN    ISLANDS 

By  October,  the  Horned  Grebe,  looking  utterly 
unlike  the  fine  fellow  of  the  sloughs — as  is  the  case 
with  the  other  Grebes  as  well — appears  in  the 
larger  lakes  and  on  the  coast,  followed  by  the  larger 
Holboell's  Grebe.  But  none  of  them  are  more 
picturesque  to  me  than  the  little  brown  Dabchick. 
I  associate  it  with  a  lonely  pond,  in  the  crisp  air  of 
October,  surrounded  by  forests  made  gorgeous  by 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

the  touch  of  the  frost.  There  near  the  shore  the 
curious  creature  glides  about  among  the  lily-pads, 
dabbling  in  the  water,  and  gathering  food  as  it 
goes.  Then  it  pauses,  and  rests  quietly  on  the 
glassy  surface,  glancing  around  to  see  if  all  is  well. 
Suddenly,  with  a  quick  plunge,  it  is  out  of  sight, 
and  after  about  a  minute  rises  not  far  away.  Then 
it  will  lie  over  on  its  side  and  preen  its  feathers,  the 
light  glancing  resplendent  from  its  white,  silky 
under  parts. 

The  Dabchick,  as  are  other  Grebes,  is  a 
masterly  diver,  skilled  in  eluding  the  shots  of  the 
hunter.  Other  birds  might  well  aspire  to  unite 
their  fortunes  with  those  of  "  the  submerged  tenth/' 
could  they  thereby  secure  that  immunity  from  harm 
that  the  power  of  diving  would  make  their  lot.  As 
a  boy,  when  I  at  last  captured  a  Dabchick  for  my 
cabinet,  I  felt  like  a  veritable  hero.  It  is  laughable 
to  me  now  how  one  day  I  stood  on  the  shore  of  a 
pond  near  Boston  and  fired  a  whole  pocketful  of 
cartridges  at  an  inoffensive  Grebe  a  few  yards  away, 
without — I  am  now  glad  to  say — harming  it  in  the 
least.  It  would  rest  quietly  on  the  water,  all  alert, 
never  turning,  even  for  an  instant,  its  bright  eyes 
from  me.  The  moment  I  pulled  the  trigger  it 
would  plunge  quick  as  thought,  reappearing  in  a  few 
seconds,  I  could  imagine,  with  a  mocking  smile, 
ready  to  try  again.  It  seemed  to  find  more  sport 
in  the  affair  than  the  excited  hunter.  Nowadays 
I  am  plotting,  not  to  destroy  the  innocent  things, 
but  to  trick  them  to  pose  before  the  camera. 

I  thoroughly  enjoy  cruising  about  in  a  sail-boat 
on  a  bright  day  with  a  good  breeze  in  late  fall  on 

36 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

beautiful  Assowompsett,  in  the  largest  lake  in 
Massachusetts.  Nearly  always  I  can  find  the 
Horned  Grebe,  often  the  Dabchick,  and  occasion- 
ally the  larger  species,  though  the  latter  here  pre- 
fers salt  water.  The  Grebes  usually  migrate  in 
flocks,  unless  it  be  the  Dabchick,  but  on  alighting 
in  a  lake  they  scatter  about  searching  for  food.  So, 
as  I  run  out  on  the  first  tack,  I  am  apt  soon  to  see 
a  solitary  Grebe  of  some  sort,  paddling  about. 
Pretending  not  to  see  it,  I  work  the  boat  well  to 
windward,  and  then,  with  extended  sail,  which 
serves  to  hide  me,  bound  along  at  a  rapid  rate, 
almost  directly  toward  the  bird.  The  approach  is 
so  sudden  that  the  Water-witch  seems  for  the 
moment  to  lose  its  self-possession,  and  swims  first 
one  way  and  then  the  other.  And  now  we  are  so 
close  that  the  Grebe  in  fright  feels  that  it  must  do 
something,  so  it  does  what  is  most  natural,  dives. 
Instantly  I  lufT  the  boat,  and  as  likely  as  not  the 
bird  will  soon  emerge  almost  alongside,  thinking  to 
have  come  up  far  behind  the  moving  boat.  Hardly 
are  its  eyes  above  water  than  it  sees  me,  and  dives 
again  so  quickly  that  often  I  only  hear  the  splash 
and  see  the  swirl  of  the  water  where  it  went  down. 
This  time  it  will  swim  a  long  way,  raising  only  its 
bill  now  and  then  above  the  water  for  a  breath  of 
air,  so  I  run  the  boat  off  before  the  wind  in  search 
of  another  bird. 

If  it  is  quite  windy,  the  Grebe  can  sometimes 
be  made  to  fly.  The  start  is  a  very  entertaining 
affair.  Having  very  small  wings,  it  is  hard  for  it  to 
get  out  of  the  water,  though,  when  once  started,  it 
flies  easily  and  swiftly,  with  rapid  beats  of  the 

37 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

wings.  At  first  the  poor  thing  goes  pattering  and 
fluttering  along  the  surface,  often  to  fall  in  again, 
exhausted  by  the  effort.  In  this  case,  after  a  brief 
rest,  swimming  a  little  for  a  start,  it  may  try  again, 
or  else  give  up  and  dive.  It  is  especially  hard  for 
it  to  rise  from  rough  water,  with  breaking  chop. 
One  mid-winter  day  off  Chatham,  Mass.,  with  an 
easterly  wind  and  breaking  sea  that  hurled  the  fish- 
ing sloop  onward,  we  overhauled  a  Horned  Grebe 
that  made  desperate  efforts  to  fly.  Rising,  as  do  all 
water-fowl,  toward  the  wind,  it  would  almost  get 
under  way  when  a  breaking  surge  would  insultingly 
slap  it  in  the  face,  and  knock  it  back  into  the 
water.  One  large  wave  fairly  flung  it  backward, 
making  the  poor  thing  fall  all  in  a  heap.  With 
great  persistency  it  tried  five  or  six  times,  when 
the  boat  had  come  so  close  that  imminent  danger 
compelled  it  to  abandon  the  fruitless  attempt  and 
dive. 

Some  few  of  the  Horned  Grebes,  and  more  of 
the  Holboell's,  remain  all  winter  on  the  New 
England  coast,  and  in  the  spring  visit  the  ponds 
again,  the  larger  kind  as  soon  as  the  ice  is  gone,  in 
March.  Both  of  these  follow  the  coast-line  in 
autumn  in  flocks,  at  the  same  time  as  the  migratory 
ducks.  The  first  time  I  ever  anchored  in  a  "  coot- 
ing  line  " — off  Scituate  it  was- — I  soon  saw  to  the 
north  a  rapidly  approaching  file  of  small,  white- 
winged  fowl.  As  they  passed  close  to  my  boat  at 
the  rate  of  over  a  mile  a  minute,  I  sent  two  shots 
singing  after  them.  One  bird  left  the  line,  and 
went  ricochetting  over  the  water  for  many  a  rod. 
Rowing  from  the  mooring  to  pick  it  up,  I  was 

38 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

surprised  to  find  that  I  had  secured,  not  a  Duck, 
but  a  Horned  Grebe.  This  was  my  first  successful 
wing-shot  from  a  boat,  and  no  wonder  I  remem- 
ber it.  More  often,  under  similar  circumstances,  it 
has  been  the  large  fellow — "  Ting-tang,"  as  the 
gunners  name  it — that  I  have  observed. 


A  mental  picture  such  as  the  above  inevitably 
has  Loons  in  it,  as  a  natural  part  of  the  scene. 
Though  Grebes  and  Loons  may  not  actually  flock 
together,  they  have  enough  in  common  to  make  it 
proper  to  class  them  alike  with  "  the  submerged 
tenth ;"  and  as  my  thought  turns  toward  Loons,  my 
personal  acquaintance  with  them  for  over  twenty 
years  unfolds  itself  in  picturesque  panorama,  in  two 
main  lines  of  association.  One  has  to  do  with 
wooded  lakes,  and  a  great  bird  floating  well  out  on 
the  glassy  surface,  or  exhibiting  its  marvellous 
powers  of  swimming  and  diving;  the  other  brings 
up  pictures  of  the  sea.  In  one  of  these  it  is  late 
autumn.  I  am  lying  flat  on  my  face,  peering  over 
a  ridge  of  sand,  on  the  Massachusetts  shore  just 
below  "  Indian  Hill/'  and  watching  a  great  Loon 
floating  just  off*  the  beach,  not  twenty  yards  away, 
utterly  unconscious  of  my  presence.  In  another  it 
is  early  winter,  and  I  am  strolling  along  the  bluffs 
of  Scituate.  A  number  of  Loons,  with  Ducks  of 
several  sorts,  are  fishing  out  at  the  beginning  of  a 
line  of  heavy  breakers.  A  big  comber  is  advanc- 
ing. Surely  it  will  overwhelm  that  Loon  that 
floats  quietly  there  in  its  course,  facing  approaching 
danger.  Just  as  the  wall  of  water  reaches  the  bird, 

39 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

the  crest  curls,  and  the  avalanche  descends.  But 
that  very  instant  the  wary  creature  leaps  at  the 
intruder.  The  knife-like  bill  cleaves  a  way,  and  in 
a  moment  there  rides  the  Loon  safe  on  the  other 
side. 

Here  is  yet  another  picture.  The  cold,  gray 
dawn  of  a  November  morning  breaks  over  the 
misty,  heaving  sea.  My  boat  is  anchored  quarter 
of  a  mile  from  shore.  Very  dim,  as  yet,  appear  the 
bluffs  of  Manomet,  and  below  them  the  rocks,  piled 
there  by  the  Titanic  forces  of  the  winters'  gales. 
From  the  north  comes  the  bellow  of  the  whistling- 
buoy  off  "the  Gurnet,"  at  the  entrance  of  old 
Plymouth  harbour.  The  fishermen,  one  by  one, 
are  rowing  out  past  in  their  dories  to  haul  their 
lobster-pots  and  to  fish  for  cod,  every  hail  of  theirs 
made  audible  by  the  megaphone  of  the  mist.  The 
gunners,  too,  are  taking  their  station  in  the  line 
that  custom  decrees  shall  begin  at  "  the  gunning- 
rock,"  and  the  plunge  of  anchors  and  the  rattling 
of  chains  is  heard.  Presently  the  whistling  of  wings 
makes  me  look  up,  to  see  gray  forms  that  rapidly 
pass  into  the  haze.  Soon  there  arises  a  series  of 
wild,  laughter-like  cries,  weird  sounds  indeed,  yet 
fitting  perfectly  with  the  surroundings.  Nearer 
they  come,  and  nearer,  but  it  seems  like  minutes 
before  I  see  one,  two,  three  great  birds,  with  long 
necks  widely  outstretched,  and  feet  extended  rudder- 
like  behind,  rapidly  advancing,  a  hundred  feet 
above  the  water,  straight  toward  the  boat.  If  they 
come  on,  they  are  safe,  for  I  have  no  desire  to  hurt 
them.  But  if  they  swerve  and  cross  the  line  at 
another  point,  the  peal  of  guns  will  ring  out,  and 

40 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

one,  at  least,  of  the  Loons  will  cease  its  flight 
and  fall  to  the  water  with  tremendous  force,  while 
the  survivors  keep  steadily  on  their  way. 

Lying  there  in  the  stern  of  the  dory,  tossed  by 
the  waves,  and  not  over  warm,  it  must  be  confessed, 
for  hours  I  watch  the  Loons  and  other  fowl  come 
and  go.  Sometimes  it  is  the  big  fellow,  the  Great 
Northern  Loon,  but  rather  oftener  the  smaller  Red- 
throated  species — whose  throat,  however,  has  now 
lost  all  trace  of  its  summer  redness.  The  shoe- 
maker gunners  have  nicknamed  it  "  the  Pegging-awl 
Loon,"  from  its  slender,  sharp  bill.  Though 
smaller  than  the  great  Loon,  it  is  still  a  big  bird. 
The  former  can  laugh  loud  enough  in  its  summer 
home  on  the  lakes,  but  in  the  autumn  flight,  at  any 
rate,  I  think  it  is  outdone  by  the  "  Pegging-awl. " 
The  latter  goes  farther  to  the  north  to  breed  than 
its  relative,  and  if  it  is  correspondingly  noisy,  the 
Arctic  solitudes  where  it  is  found  must  be  far  from 
silent. 

If  this  be  a  fairly  good  flight-day,  Loons  will 
probably  pass  within  sight  every  ten  minutes  at 
least.  Sometimes  from  three  to  six  will  follow 
one  another  some  rods  apart,  at  irregular  intervals. 
Just  as  often  they  travel  singly.  If  there  is  any 
difference  in  the  general  habits  of  the  two  kinds,  I 
think  that  the  "Pegging-awl"  is  the  more  apt  to 
go  in  parties.  If,  too,  he  is  the  greater  talker,  we 
may  award  him  the  palm  for  sociability.  But  that 
they  are  both  good  company,  I  can  testify. 

In  the  calm  of  the  early  morning  very  likely 
there  will  be  one  or  two  large  Loons  riding  over 
the  swells,  diving  now  and  then  after  their  finny 

4* 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

breakfast.  Like  as  not  some  greenhorn  gunner  will 
row  after  them ;  but  I  never  saw  a  Loon  thus 
caught.  It  may  let  him  approach  nearly  within 
gunshot,  when  it  will  quietly  sink  out  of  sight,  and 
after  some  moments  rise  quite  a  distance  off.  After 
a  few  repetitions  of  this  it  will  dive,  to  be  seen 
no  more. 

If  there  is  a  strong  wind,  and  the  sea  or  lake  is 
rough,  I  have  found  it  not  so  difficult  to  approach 
them,  especially  in  a  sail-boat.  Well  do  I  re- 
member, sailing  in  a  catboat  on  Lake  Assowompsett 
one  cloudy,  blustering  November  day  when  the 
chop  was  considerable,  how  we  suddenly  almost  ran 
down  a  Red-throated  Loon.  The  bird  was  so 
startled  that  it  lost  its  presence  of  mind,  and, 
instead  of  diving,  flew.  The  boat  was  going 
directly  before  the  wind,  so  the  Loon  had  to 
rise  directly  toward  the  boat,  almost  striking 
the  sail,  and  going  so  low  over  the  deck  that  the 
possibility  was  suggested  of  seizing  one  of  the 
dangling  legs. 

Usually,  though,  a  Loon  can  seldom  be  forced 
to  fly,  even  when  it  has  very  limited  space  for 
diving.  Here  is  a  typical  instance  to  the  point. 
One  perfectly  calm  day  in  October  a  friend  and 
myself  noticed  a  large  Loon  out  on  Lake  Nippe- 
nickett,  and  we  decided  to  give  it  a  chase,  and  see 
how  it  would  act.  We  soon  found  that  its  main 
plan  was  to  keep  out  in  the  widest  part  of  the  lake 
and  avoid  being  driven  in  to  the  shore.  It  varied 
its  tactics,  too,  apparently  with  the  direct  intention 
of  deceiving  us.  Sometimes,  after  diving,  it  would 
emerge  straight  beyond  us,  sometimes  off  to  one 

42 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

side,  or  even  behind  us,  having  swum  toward  us 
and  gone  under  the  boat.  Once,  when  we  suc- 
ceeded in  driving  it  into  a  cove,  finding  itself 
close  to  shore,  it  turned,  and,  swimming  under 
us,  was  out  in  the  open  water  again,  ready  for 


FLOATING  NEST  OF  GREAT  LOON,  NEAR  SHORE  OF  POND,  MAINE. 
BY  A.  C.  BENT 

another  chase.  Sagacious  bird  ! — who  ever  invented 
that  phrase,  "crazy  as  a  loon?"  The  only  excuse 
is  that  the  bird's  notes  resemble  wild  laughter. 


The  small  Loon  is  not  known  to  nest  in  the 
United  States,  but  in  many  places  along  our 
northern  border  the  larger  one  makes  its  summer 
home  on  the  wild  lakes.  In  northern  New 

43 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

England  it  is  common,  and  now  and  then  it  breeds 
as  far  south  as  Massachusetts.  Sailing  about  in 
Buzzards  Bay  early  one  July,  I  passed  a  Loon  along 
the  Falmouth  shore,  that  was  swimming  with  a 
half-grown  young  one  close  beside  her.  She 
seemed  very  fond  of  it,  and  kept  caressing  it  with 
her  bill  with  true  maternal  tenderness.  Far  was  it 
from  my  thought  to  disturb  them,  and  our  sloop 
sped  on. 

Of  all  the  places  where  I  have  observed  the 
great  Loon  in  its  haunts,  give  me  the  Turtle 
Mountains  of  North  Dakota.  On  those  frosty 
nights  of  middle  June,  as  we  lay  under  our  light 
cotton  tent,  snuggled  up  in  heavy  blankets,  often 
when  I  was  awake  I  could  hear  that  wild,  laughter- 
like  cry — "  ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-a-a  "  —as  the  Loons  flew 
over  from  one  lake  to  another.  Our  camp  was 
near  Gordon  Lake,  a  fine  body  of  water  several 
miles  around,  with  stony  shores  and  a  border  of 
reeds.  Out  on  its  surface  were  always  a  number  of 
Loons,  and  over  on  the  west  side  several  seemed  to 
be  patrolling  parts  of  the  shore.  Walking  entirely 
around  the  lake,  I  vainly  searched  the  whole 
margin  for  nests.  I  had  reason  to  believe  that  the 
young  were  hatched,  and,  as  there  were  no  muskrat 
houses  or  floating  mounds  that  I  could  discover,  it 
is  likely  that  the  eggs  were  laid  on  the  bare  shore, 
so  that  no  nest  was  then  in  evidence. 

In  one  place  I  surmised  that  the  young  were 
hidden  amorfg  the  reeds.  There  the  parents  gave 
me  a  most  interesting  spectacle.  The  pair  were 
patrolling,  rather  anxiously,  about  a  gunshot  off 
shore.  Knowing  of  the  curiosity  of  the  Loon,  I 

44 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

kept  low  in  the  reeds,  and  now  and  then  waved  my 
handkerchief  aboye  them.  The  Loons  at  once 
began  to  watch,  and  then  gradually  to  swim  in, 
until  they  were  within  twenty  yards  of  me.  They 
swam  back  and  forth  in  front  of  me,  keeping  close 
together,  their  snowy  breasts  and  steel-blue  necks 


IKK 


ANOTHER     NEST     OF     THE     GREAT     LOON     ON     DRY     STONY     SHORE     OF 
SMALL    ISLAND    IN    LAKE MAINE.       BY    A.    C.    BENT 

reflected  upon  the  mirror-surface,  just  beyond  the 
reflection  of  the  reeds  and  of  the  poplar  forest.  It 
was  one  of  the  memorable  bird-sights  of  my  life. 

Anxious  as  I  was  to  see  the  nest  of  the  Loon, 
the  account  given  by  a  settler  of  a  small  lake  two 
miles  beyond  the  camp,  where  a  pair  of  Loons' 
were  always  to  be  seen,  aroused  my  enthusiasm. 
The  next  day,  June  15,  was  ushered  in  by  a  furious 

45 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

easterly  storm,  the  rain  descending  in  a  perfect 
deluge,  beating  and  driving,  threatening  to  drown 
us  out  of  camp.  But  for  all  that  I  donned  water- 
proof and  rubber-boots,  and  started  for  the  new 
lake.  The  very  first  sight  that  greeted  me,  as  I 
reached  it,  was  a  Loon  off  on  the  water.  That 
only  one  was  in  sight  gave  promise  of  the  other 
still  being  on  the  nest.  This  lake  was  less  than 
half  of  a  mile  in  diameter,  and  the  task  of  exam- 
ining every  foot  of  the  margin  was  by  no  means  an 


THE  ISLAND  ON  WHICH   THE   PRECEDING    LOON  S  NEST  WAS  SITUATED 
BY  A.   C.   BENT 

impossible  one,  though  it  was  more  boggy,  and 
there  were  more  reeds,  than  usual.  Impeded  by 
my  coat,  I  floundered  on,  the  Loon  following, 
keeping  abreast  of  me  wherever  I  went.  The  pond 
was  in  two  parts,  divided  by  a  low  island,  that 
almost  filled  the  narrows  in  the  middle. 

I  traversed  the  eastern  lobe,  but  found  no  sign 
of  the  nest.  Then  I  waded  to  the  island,  and 
systematically  examined  its  shore.  There  were 

46 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

several  empty  nests  of  Holboell's  Grebe  scattered 
along.  Finally  I  was  almost  back  at  the  starting- 
point,  heated,  bedraggled,  and  -  well-nigh  dis- 


FLOATING    NEST   OF    THE    GREAT    LOON,     IN    AN    ONTARIO     LAKE 
BY    C.    J.     YOUNG 

couraged.  Suddenly,  out  at  the  edge  of  the  reeds, 
about  twenty  yards  ahead  of  me,  there  arose  a  most 
prodigious  fluttering  and  splashing,  and  away  went 

47 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

an  enormous  Loon,  half  flying,  half  dragging  her- 
self over  the  water.  Getting  out  into  the  lake, 
she  alighted  with  a  great  splash,  and  instantly 
dove.  Eagerly  I  hastened  forward,  and  waded  out. 
Through  the  reeds  I  could  see  a  muskrat  house, 
and  I  knew  what  was  in  store.  Not  on  top,  but 
on  the  outer  side,  well  down  near  the  water,  the 


ANOTHER    VIEW    OF    THE    PRECEDING 


bird  had  flattened  out  a  sort  of  platform.  It  was 
the  home  of  the  Loon — at  last  !  In  a  slight  hol- 
low lay,  not  the  usual  two,  but  one  enormous 
dark  brown,  spotted  egg.  That  it  was  the  full 
laying  of  the  bird  was  evident,  for  it  was  almost 
ready  to  hatch.  A  day  or  two  more,  and  I  should 
have  been  too  late.  This  it  was,  in  particular, 

48 


THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 

which   made    me  confident  that  on   the  other  lake 
the   Loons  had  already  hatched  their  young. 

What  could  be  wetter  than  the  surroundings  of 
this  most  amphibious  creature,  out  there  a  couple  of 
rods  from  shore  in  three  or  four  feet  of  water,  espe- 
cially in  that  downpour,  and  with  the  lake  rising  so  as 
almost  to  lap  over  on  the  egg !  And  there,  up  near 
the  end  of  the  lake,  were  both  the  Loons  together, 
submerged,  as  usual — all  but  head  and  neck  and  a 
little  strip  of  the  back — engaged,  no  doubt,  in 
family  consultation.  From  them  came  now  and 
then — it  seemed  to  me  rather  inappropriately — the 
wild,  quavering  note,  which,  though  it  resembled  a 
laugh,  sprung  from  very  different  sentiments.  I 
imitated  the  note,  and  they  answered  back.  What- 
ever their  meaning,  my  note  was  of  genuine 
laughter,  for  I  felt  that  the  laugh  was  properly  on 
my  side. 


49 


PART   II. 

MODERN    CLIFF-DWELLERS 

(Gannets,  Guillemots,  Auks-,  Puffins,  Kittiwakes,  Etc.) 

ONE  BY  one,  retiring  like  an  army  of  heroes 
from  a  well-fought,  but  unequal  battle,  the  Murres 
and  their  allies  have  yielded  up  fortress  after  fortress 
along  our  coast  as  the  encroachments  of  man  have 


GREAT    BIRD    ROCK    AT    EVENING 


pushed  their  breeding-grounds  farther  and  farther 
toward  the  wilds  of  the  north.  The  time  was 
when  they  occupied  the  rocks  off  Boston  harbour, 
and  swarmed  upon  the  islands  of  the  New  England 
coast.  But  this  was  long  ago.  Only  the  Black 
Guillemots  maintain  themselves  as  far  south  as  the 
islands  of  the  coast  of  Maine  by  hiding  their  eggs 
under  forbidding  boulders,  as  also  do  a  very  few 

50 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

Puffins  at  Matinicus  Rock,  and  Razor-billed  Auks 
at  Grand  Manan.  Several  pairs  of  Double-crested 
Cormorants,  after  many  vain  efforts  to-  rear  a  single 
brood,  are  about  giving  up  the  struggle.  I  had 
hoped  to  find  better  conditions  existing  in  Nova 
Scotia ;  but,  wherever  I  went,  the  story  was 
repeated  that  within  the  last  few  years  the  birds  had 
ceased  to  nest. 

Inquiry  revealed  the  fact  that  the  islands  of  the 
Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  are  now  practically  the 
southernmost  stronghold  of  these  interesting  and 
elusive  birds.  So,  in  June,  a  year  ago,  I  started  for 
the  Magdalen  Islands,  accompanied  by  a  congenial 
bird-lover.  A  day's  journey  brought  us  to  Pictou, 
Nova  Scotia,  whence  we  embarked  in  the  weekly 
steamer  upon  the  then  calm  waters  of  the  often 
turbulent  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence.  Early  next  morn- 
ing, exhilarated  by  the  almost  frosty  air,  we  gazed 
upon  the  red  sandstone  cliffs,  spruce-grown  hills, 
and  fields  dotted  with  white  cottages,  of  the  Mag- 
dalen Islands,  sparkling  in  the  sunshine. 

In  due  time  we  reached  our  destination,  the 
home  of  a  fisherman,  near  the  eastern  end  of  the 
chain  of  islands.  After  an  interesting  week  spent 
among  the  water-birds  of  the  ponds  about  East 
Point,  the  day  arrived  for  our  embarkation  for  the 
Bird  Rocks.  Weeks  before  we  had  made  arrange- 
ments with  the  captain  of  a  small  schooner  to  land 
us  on  the  Great  Bird  Rock  on  June  21,  and  call  for 
us  after  four  days,  as  well  as  with  the  keeper  of  the 
Bird  Rock  light  for  entertainment. 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

The  day  was  unpromising ;  clouds  were  threat- 
ening, a  fog-bank  hung  off  at  sea,  and  the  wind, 
strong  from  the  south-east,  covered  the  ocean 
expanse  with  white-caps.  About  ten  o'clock,  when 
we  had  given  up  hope  of  starting  that  day,  the 
schooner  was  sighted  off  to  the  westward.  In  half 
an  hour  she  had  rounded  the  point  and  "hove  to" 
off  the  beach.  As  no  boat  put  off  from  her,  we 
got  two  French  fishermen  to  launch  their  seine- 
boat  and  set  us  aboard.  It  was  no  easy  matter,  but 
finally  we  got  out  through  the  breakers  without  a 
wetting,  and  managed  to  tumble  up  on  the  plung- 
ing vessel. 

Following  along  shore,  for  an  hour  or  so,  the 
strong  wind  bore  us  opposite  East  Point,  when,  turn- 
ing our  backs  upon  the  grim  expanse  of  sand  that 
has  received  so  many  human  corpses  from  the  deep, 
we  sped  out  into  the  unknown  toward  the  invisible 
rock  that  lay  sixteen  miles  to  the  north.  Soon  we 
approached  the  off-lying  fog-bank,  and  the  "  gray 
walls "  shut  in  thick  and  chill  around  us.  The 
vessel  was  now  rolling  and  plunging  into  the  trough 
of  the  following  seas  in  the  most  approved  fashion. 
After  two  hours  or  more  the  captain  thought  that 
we  must  be  getting  near  to  the  Rock.  More  and 
more  birds  came  in  sight,  and  we  strained  our  ears 
for  the  clamour  of  the  colony  and  the  roaring  of 
the  surf.  At  length,  anxious  lest  we  should  run  too 
close  upon  the  Rock  in  the  fog,  the  captain  crawled 
out  and  stood  upon  the  end  of  the  bowsprit,  plung- 
ing almost  into  the  sea.  Suddenly,  now,  the  fog 
began  to  lift — a  sign  of  land.  Soon  we  could  see 
the  blue  overhead,  and  then,  just  as  our  look-out 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

uttered  a  joyous  shout,  we  saw  an  apparition  of  red 
and  gray  cliffs,  and  Bird  Rock  emerged  from  the 
mist  like  a  grim  fortress,  less  than  half  a  mile  away. 
On  top  of  the  precipice  that  rose  sheer  from  the 
ocean  were  a  light-house  and  other  buildings;  along 
its  sides  were  lines  of  black  and  white  that  I  knew 
were  birds  upon  their  nests. 

Flying  before  the  wind,  the  Rock  seemed  to 
rise  right  upon  us.  The  air  was  now  clear  and  the 
sun  bright.  Gannets,  Kittiwakes,  Murres,  Auks 
and  Puffins  were  passing  and  repassing  about  us, 
flying  to  and  from  the  cliffs.  Then  we  rounded 
the  north-east  corner  of  the  Rock,  about  a  gunshot 
out  from  it,  looking  up  in  amazement  at  the  swarms 
of  birds  that  almost  filled  the  air,  or  clustered  in 
masses  upon  the  narrow  ledges  of  the  cliff.  It 
seemed  to  me  like  a  busy  street  of  a  great  city,  with 
its  tall  buildings,  in  and  out  of  which  the  crowds 
surged,  only  that  all  the  windows  were  doors,  and 
it  was  rather  alarming  to  see  people  falling  in 
showers  out  of  the  tenth  or  twentieth-story  win- 
dows. The  words  of  the  Psalmist  came  to  me  as 
impressively  descriptive — "  Who  are  these  that  fly 
as  doves  to  their  windows?" 

Our  approach  was  noted  from  the  lighthouse 
above.  The  British  ensign  flying  from  the  top  of 
the  flag-staff  was  dipped  in  our  honour,  and  sharp 
rose  the  crash  of  the  dynamite  bomb  salute.  "  Let 
go,"  came  the  shout  from  above,  as  we  rounded  the 
north-west  corner.  Down  went  our  anchor  in 
response.  We  both  took  snapshots  of  the  cliff,  then 
hurried  into  the  dory,  where  our  baggage  had 
already  been  put,  and  were  rowed  shoreward.  The 

53 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 


sea  broke  considerably  around  on  the  other  side ; 
but  here,  fortunately,  where  the  only  beach  was,  it 
was  under  lee  from  the  wind,  and  without  any 
difficulty  we  ran  the  boat  up  on  the  little  strip  of 
stony  shingle  only  a  few  rods  long. 

On  the  left  was  a  series  of  ladders  spiked  to  the 
rock,  by  which  one  could  climb  up  the  over  one 
hundred  feet  of  cliff,  and  here  by  the  boat  was  the 
famous  "crate,"  a  little  open  box  or  platform,  with 


.     #g  ':' 


MURRES    AND    KITTIWAKES    NESTING FROM    THE    CRATE 

slab  sides  about  waist  high.  Into  this  we  put  our 
baggage  and  then  climbed  in  ourselves.  The  crank 
above  began  to  turn,  and  we  swung  clear  of  the 
ground.  This  was  the  ordeal  which  in  time  past  I 
had  somewhat  dreaded,  but  which  now  seemed  the 
pleasantest  and  most  natural  thing  in  the  world. 
Before  we  realized  it  we  were  well  up  from  the 
beach,  which  looked  very  small  and  far-away,  when, 
at  length,  I  ventured  a  downward  glance,  We 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

were  only  some  ten  feet  or  so  from  the  cliff,  and 
passing  close  to  the  birds.  First,  if  I  remember 
rightly,  were  some  Kittiwakes,  each  on  a  little  nest 
of  sea-weed,  built  very  cleverly  and  securely  on  to 
some  slight  projection  or  niche  of  the  cliff.  Some 
of  the  occupants  sat  still,  others  stood  up,  revealing 
two  spotted  eggs,  or,  in  a  few  cases,  newly-hatched 
downy  young,  while  one  or  two  took  to  flight. 
Off  on  the  left  was  a  long  array  of  great  white 
Gannets,  nesting  on  a  ledge.  Directly  in  front  of 
us,  a  little  higher  up,  we  passed  a  great  mass  of 
Murres.  On  both  sides  were  birds,  anywhere  and 
everywhere  they  could  find  a  footing.  Here  and 
there  a  Razor-billed  Auk  peered  out  from  a  recess 
of  the  rock,  watching  our  progress. 

The  crate  was  all  the  time  turning  around  from 
the  twisting  of  the  cable,  but  so  slowly  that  I  did 
not  mind  it  at  all.  The  whole  episode  seemed  like 
a  dream,  it  was  so  soon  over.  In  five  minutes  we 
rose  in  sight  of  the  green-sward  at  the  top,  and  saw 
two  men  and  two  women  labouring  at  the  crank, 
the  latter  with  flushed  faces.  Then  they  swung 
the  derrick-arm  in  over  the  land,  where  we  got  out 
to  meet  rhe  keeper,  Capt.  Peter  Bourque,  who  gave 
us  a  most  royal  welcome,  and  introduced  us  to  the 
members  of  his  family  who  were  staying  with 
him  on  the  Rock  at  this  time — a  grown-up  son, 
daughter  and  niece. 

The  sun  was  now  bright,  so  my  friend  and  I  took 
our  cameras  and  started  forth  to  view  this  new 
world  of  bird-life.  There  was  the  schooner  already 
sailing  away,  and  North  Bird  Rock  out  beyond, 
nearly  a  mile  to  the  westward,  appearing  as  two 

55 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

separate  crags,  both  of  them  white  on  top  with 
brooding  Gannets.  Then  we  looked  directly  down 
over  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  and  stood  entranced  at 
the  sight.  It  was  indeed  one  of  life  and  motion, 
for  a  throng  of  birds  filled  the  air,  ceaselessly  pass- 
ing and  repassing.  Some  were  leaving  their  nests, 
to  scale  down  and  out  over  the  water.  Others 
swung  up  from  the  ocean  level,  to  alight  each  in 
its  proper  niche.  Others  passed  by  us  within  a  few 
feet,  but  none  flew  over  the  land.  Years  ago  the 


"  THERE    WAS    THE    SCHOONER    ALREADY    SAILING    AWAY,    AND 
NORTH    BIRD    ROCK    OUT    BEYOND  " 

birds  occupied  the  whole  level  area  of  green-sward 
on  top,  which  I  should  think  is  about  three  hun- 
dred yards  long,  and  half  as  wide.  Now,  however, 
since  the  building  of  the  lighthouse,  they  recognize 
the  fact  that  man  has  the  ascendency. 

There  was  no  cessation  in  the  passing  throng, 
any  more  than  there  is  in  business  hours  on  the 
principal  street  of  a  large  city.  It  was  a  constant 
habit  for  birds  to  act  as  though  they  were  about  to 
alight,  hovering  slightly  as  they  passed  some  con- 
venient crag,  even  extending  their  feet,  but  decide 

57 


MODERN    CLIFF-DWELLERS 


to  pass  on,  and  scale  down  again  and  out  over 
the  ocean.  No  bird  seems  ever  to  turn  hack  and 
alight.  It  appears  to  be  a  sort  of  social  require- 
ment, in  this  bird-city,  never  to  alight,  except 
after  the  conventional  circuit  out  over  the  water. 
Puffins,  Murres  and  Razor-bills  often  gathered  in 
groups  on  the  rocks  at  the  top  of  the  cliff,  but 
always  at  the  very  edge.  They  were  not  shy,  and 
would  let  one 
approach  within 
about  twenty 
feet  before  tak- 
ing to  flight. 
Now  and  then  a 
G  a  n  n  e  t  would 
perch  at  the  top, 
but  not  for  long, 
and  it  was  still 
rarer  to  see  a 
Kittiwake  in 
such  a  position. 
Both  these  spe- 
cies, for  the  most 
part,  nested  well 
down  from  the  top,  but  I  soon  noticed  a  group  of 
Gannets  only  about  fifteen  feet  down,  and  this  was 
one  of  the  first  subjects  for  the  camera.  A  single 
one,  quite  approachable  both  as  to  disposition  and 
location,  had  a  nest  even  nearer  the  top. 

It  seemed  impossible  not  to  follow  the  birds 
with  the  eye,  and  the  result  at  first  was  to  produce 
slight  dizziness  and  headache,  almost  "  sea-sickness. " 
And  then,  too,  until  one  gets  accustomed  to  it, 

59 


I  SOON  NOTICED  A  GROUP  OF   GANNETS  ONLY 
ABOUT  FIFTEEN  FEET  DOWN  " 


AMONG   THE   WATER-FOWL 


it  is  a  strain  upon  the  nerves  to  be  ever  on  guard 
against  taking  a  single  careless  step  and  falling  off 
the  cliff.  The  birds  seemed  so  wonderfully  at 
ease,  launching  off  into  space,  that,  after  watching 
them  awhile,  it  seemed  almost  natural  and  proper 
to  follow  their  example. 

At  length,  in  our  tour  of  investigation,  we  came 

around  to  the 
south  -  east  end 
of  the  island, 
where  the  Puf- 
fins breed.  The 
•sRjj  ground  here  was 
rather  less  grassy, 
rough,  with  rock 
cropping  out. 
Here  and  there 
were  holes  in 
the  ground,  the 
entrances  to  the 
burrows  of  the 
Puffins,  which 
most  often  led 

in  under  some  flat  rock.  Groups  of  Puffins  were 
congregated  upon  several  projecting  rocks  at  the 
edge  of  the  cliff,  and  now  and  then  an  incubat- 
ing bird  would  scurry  out  from  a  hole,  as  we 
approached,  and  fly  off.  Here  the  cliff  was  broken 
into  a  series  of  comparatively  broad  ledges,  which 
one  could  reach  successively  by  several  iron  ladders. 
It  did  not  seem  as  formidable  as  on  the  other 
side,  and  we  both  made  the  descent  to  the  lowest 
ledge,  about  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  above  the  water. 

60 


GANNET  AND  BRUNNICH  S  MURRES    INCUBATING, 
AS    SEEN    FROM    ABOVE 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 


Now  and  then  we  started  an  Auk  from    its    egg  in 

some  recess  or  under  some  projection  of  the  rock. 

As   this  was   the  most  accessible   part   of   the    cliff, 

many    eggs    had    been    gathered  from   these   ledges, 

and    there    were    not    as   many    here    as    elsewhere, 

where  they  could  not  be  reached.      However,  as  we 

climbed  down  to  the  bottom  ledge,  we  came   upon 

a    fine    crowded 

line  of   Murres, 

each    sitting    on 

its  single  egg  laid 

on  the  bare  rock, 

close  in   under 

the  overhanging 

cliff.      They    all 

left   their    eggs 

pell  -  mell  when 

they    saw    that 

we    were    really 

coming  down  to 

them.    The  sud- 

denness     with 

which  they  flew 

started  one   or   two    of  the   eggs    rolling,    and    then 

I  sav/  a   practical    illustration  of  the  wisdom  of  the 

plan  of  Nature    which    has   made  the  eggs  of  these 

birds     pear-shaped.        Instead     of    rolling     off    the 

ledge,    they    simply    turned    around    on    their    axis, 

only    moving  a   few   inches  from  their  place.      The 

shells,  too,  are  so  hard   that   they    can    withstand    a 

great  deal   of  rough    usage,    though   occasionally   I 

noticed  one  that  had  been  broken. 

After    inspecting    these    interesting    sights,    we 

61 


NOW    AND    THEN    WE    STARTED    AN    AUK    FROM 
ITS    EGG    IN    SOME    RECESS        ...        OF 
THE    ROCK" 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWT 


climbed  back  to  the  top.  My  friend  went  off  with 
his  camera,  and  the  Keeper  came  along,  offering  to 
pilot  me  about,  taking  me  to  the  north  side,  the 
highest  part  of  the  island.  Here  was  another  de- 
scent by  ladder,  and  the  invitation  was  given  me  to 
go  down  to  a  fine  Gannet  colony.  I  accepted  it, 
and  followed  my  guide,  not  without  considerable 
trepidation,  down  two  ladders,  about  half  way  down 

the  precipice. 
Here  it  was  nec- 
essary to  walk 
along  a  narrow 
ledge,  barely 
wide  enough  for 
one's  feet,  for 
about  fifty  yards 
ere  we  could 
reach  a  broad, 
safe  promontory 
at  the  corner  of 
island.  At 
it  seemed 


A    LINE    OF    MURRES    EACH    SITTING    ON    ITS 
SINGLE    EGG    LAID    ON    THE    BARE    ROCK, 
CLOSE    IN    UNDER    THE    OVER- 
HANGING    CLIFF" 


like    courting    a 

violent  death  to  follow  that  strait  and  narrow 
way  along  the  verge  of  destruction  ;  but  assured  by 
the  Keeper,  and  steadying  myself  by  his  big,  brawny 
fist  held  out  behind  him,  I  passed  safely  through 
the  ordeal,  and  breathed  more  freely  when  we 
reached  the  projection,  where  we  could  view  two 
sides  of  the  cliff. 

Upon  the  continuation  of  the  same  ledge, 
around  the  corner,  was  a  splendid  array  of  Gannets 
upon  their  nests.  The  nearest  were  only  about  ten 

62 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

feet  off.  A  few  of  them  flew,  as  I  crawled  out  to 
their  nests,  but  the  rest  sat  indifferent,  knowing 
that  the  ledge  sloped  so  much  that  no  man  would 
have  the  hardihood  to  reach  them.  The  great 
creatures  were  going  and  coming,  some  of  them 
bringing  bunches  of  sea-weed  in  their  bills  to  repair 
their  nests,  perhaps  pillaged  of  material  by  their 
neighbours.  Each  had  its  single  very  large  dirty 
white  egg,  usually  in  a  fair  snug  nest  of  weed, 
but  occasionally  the  egg  was  upon  the  bare  rock. 
Probably  the  lining  was  to  be  added  later. 

After  supper  I  arranged  quarters  in  the  cellar 
for  developing  plates,  and  went  to  work  on  those  I 
had  exposed  during  the  afternoon.  As  the  darkness 
gathered,  even  there  indoors,  I  could  hear  one  sort 
of  bird-note,  all  the  other  members  of  the  colony 
having  apparently  relapsed  into  silence  and  slumber 
for  the  night.  It  was  a  funny  little  twittering  or 
chattering,  that  seemed  to  come  from  all  directions, 
and  I  recognized,  from  descriptions,  the  song — it 
almost  deserves  that  name — of  the  Leach's  Petrel. 
They  evidently  were  flying  about,  and,  after  my 
work  was  done,  I  went  out  to  investigate.  It  was 
pitch  dark,  however,  and  I  could  see  nothing  of 
them,  so  I  retired  to  secure  needed  rest.  All 
night,  in  dream,  I  seemed  to  be  crawling  out  on 
dangerous  ledges  after  birds,  and  trying  to  save 
myself  from  falling. 


We  were  up  early  the  next  morning,  and  out 
before  breakfast  for  a  look  at  the  birds.  The 
weather  was  cloudy  and  windy,  though  there  was 

64 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

no  fog — evidently  no  chance  for  photography. 
Breakfast  was  over  by  seven,  and  then  it  did  not 
take  long  to  return  to  the  birds.  It  seemed  very 
strange  to  have  so  many  of  them  so  close  about  us, 
and  these  not  the  common  door-yard  species,  but 
those  which  usually  one  must  seek  afar  upon  the 
wild  seas.  For  all  that  they  made  the  most  agree- 
able and  fascinating  of  bird-neighbours.  I  had 
expected  that  Bird  Rock  would  be  a  very  noisy 
place,  but  in  reality  it  did  not  give  me  that  impres- 
sion. During  the  day  there  are  plenty  of  sounds, 
but  they  are  either  lost  or  mellowed  in  the  vastness 
of  Nature's  amphitheatre.  The  sea  moans  and  the 
wind  sighs,  making  a  sort  of  bass  monotone  into 
which  the  cries  of  the  birds  harmoniously  blend. 
From  the  house  it  all  sounds  like  some  muffled 
murmur.  But  standing  at  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  the 
sounds  are  audible  enough,  though  not  as  ear- 
splitting  as  in  some  Gull  or  Tern  colonies.  The 
loudest  calls  arose  when  anything  agitated  the 
Kittiwakes,  when  the  shrill  clarion — sounding  like 
"  kittiwake,  kittiwake  "  —enunciated  with  startling 
distinctness,  rang  out  above  everything  else.  The 
harsh  grating  notes  of  the  Gannets  were  also  very 
noticeable  at  times.  But  the  other  inhabitants  have 
very  subdued  voices,  and  only- express  themselves  in 
low  croakings  and  gruntings. 

The  morning  passed  pleasantly  and  profitably  in 
further  study  of  the  birds,  especially  the  Murres0 
There  were  two  kinds,  the  Common  and  the  Briin- 
nich's,  in  about  equal  abundance,  I  thought.  The 
two  were  mixed  in  on  the  ledges  indiscriminately. 
A  Common  Murre  sitting  on  its  egg  was  just  as 

65 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

likely  to  have  for  its  next  neighbour  one  of  the 
other  species  as  an  individual  of  its  own  kind. 
Occasionally  all  on  a  ledge  would .  prove  to  be  of 
one  species  only,  and  often,  when  mixed,  one  kind 
would  greatly  outnumber  the  other.  But  the  only 
way  to  get  identified  eggs  was  to  watch  a  ledge, 
note  the  order  of  the  species  as  they  sat  upon  the 
eggs,  and  then  mark  the  eggs  as  they  were  taken. 
In  addition  to  the  above,  there  are  a  few  individuals 
of  the  type  once  named  the  "  Ringed  Murre,"  dis- 
tinguished by  a  white  line  running  back  from 
behind  the  eye.  Naturalists  are  in  doubt  as  to 
whether  or  not  this  is  a  valid  species,  and,  if  not, 
how  to  account  for  this  aberration. 

We  also  investigated  the  nesting  of  the  Puffins. 
Securing  a  pick-axe,  by  hard  toil  we  managed  to 
dig  out  several  burrows.  Each  was  from  one  to 
two  yards  in  length,  ending  in  a  larger  chamber, 
where  the  one  dirty-white  egg  was  laid  in  a  slight  bed 
of  grass  and  feathers.  The  soil  is  largely  the  debris 
of  red  sandstone,  which,  we  found,  gives  to  some 
of  the  eggs  a  reddish  stain  rather  hard  to  remove. 
In  one  instance  we  caught  a  Puffin  on  the  nest. 
Despite  its  struggles  and  biting,  the  Keeper's  son 
despatched  it,  and  the  work  of  taxidermy  fell  to  my 
lot,  which  occupied  the  remaining  time  before 
dinner. 

About  this  time,  as  I  had  hoped,  the  clouds 
rolled  away,  and  we  were  favoured  with  an  after- 
noon of  sunshine.  Of  course  the  camera  came 
again  into  vogue.  After  taking  some  more  general 
views,  I  began  the  attempt  to  photograph  birds  on 
the  rocks  at  close  range.  The  south-east  end  Puffin 

66 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

ground  seemed  to  be  the  best  place  for  this,    where 
Puffins,  Murres  and  Auks  gathered  at  the  top  of  the 


cr 


"PRESENTLY  A  PUFFIN  ALIT  RIGHT  IN 

cliff.  First  I  noticed  one  rock  where  the  Puffins 
frequently  alit,  and  set  the  camera  on  the  ground, 
focusing  it  on  this  spot.  Then  I  withdrew  with 

67 


I    MADE    SEVERAL    EXPOSURES    ON    PUFFINS 


68 


MODERN    CLIFF-DWELLERS 

the  end  of  the  long  tube,  and  lay  down  on  the 
ground,  fifty  feet  away.  Presently  a  Puffin  alit 
right  in  front  of  the  camera,  then  another.  I  made 
several  exposures  on  Puffins,  then  removed  the  in- 
strument to  another  rock,  where  I  secured  some 
close  shots  at  Murres  and  Auks.  After  that  I 


"  I    SECURED    SOME    CLOSE    SHOTS     AT 


AUKS 


aimed  at  a  whole  crag  on  which  all  these  birds 
gathered  in  a  larger  group,  and  made  several  expo- 
sures on  them.  They  had  to  be  rapid  exposures,  as 
the  birds  were  moving  their  heads  all  the  time,  and 
the  strong  wind  blew  their  feathers  badly. 

I    was    interested    in    watching  the    Gannets  in 
their  relations  one  with  the  other,  and  it  seemed  to  me 

69 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 


that  they  were  the  most  quarrelsome  of  all  the  Cliflf- 
Dwellers,  though  for  the  most  part  they  were 
peaceable  enough.  At  times  I  saw  groups  of  them 
huddled  together  in  friendly  fashion,  some  of  them, 
probably  mates,  caressing  one  another  with  their 

bills.  Yet  fre- 
quently there 
were  manifesta- 
tions of  displea- 
sure and  hostil- 
ity. One  instance 
was  especially 
curious.  I  saw 
a  Gannet  plunge 
into  the  water 
from  mid  -  air, 
and  come  to  the 
surface  with  a 
fish  or  eel . 
Another  at  once 
laid  hold  on  the 
prize,  and  there 
followed  a  long 

"  AFTER  THAT    I    AIMED    AT    A    WHOLE    CRAG  ON  tUg  of  War.    I  pUr 

WHICH    ALL    THESE    BIRDS    GATHERED  DOSed    Seeing    the 

IN    A    LARGER    GROUP  "  rr      •  1  1 

affair  through, 

but  after  ten  minutes  they  seemed  no  nearer  to  a 
finish  than  at  first,  and  something  else  distracted  my 
attention.  It  is  a  splendid  sight,  of  which  I  could 
never  tire,  to  watch  the  great  fellows  scale  close  by 
the  top  of  the  cliff,  with  extended  wings  that  meas- 
ure as  far  across  as  a  man  can  stretch,  and  then 
glide  down  and  out  over  the  ocean,  at  times  to 

70 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

plunge  like  an  arrow  into  the  wave  with  a  force 
that  suggests  concussion  of  the  brain,  disappearing 
for  some  seconds,  and  then  fluttering  up  with  the 
fish  which  is  seldom  agile  enough  to  escape  such 
an  onslaught. 

It  was  interesting  to  hear  the  Keeper  tell  about 
the  birds.  After  the  breeding-season  they  all 
scatter,  and  very  few  feathered  creatures  are  seen 
during  the  long  winter  but  files  of  hardy  Ducks, 
like  the  Eiders,  as  they  fly  along  the  lanes  in  the 
drift-ice.  What  an  experience  it  must  be  to  re- 
main isolated  from  the  world,  in  all  those  bitter, 
fearful  storms,  beyond  human  help  for  months  at  a 
time !  No  wonder  these  brave  and  hardy  people 
rejoice  over  the  return  of  the  birds  in  the  spring. 
Records  of  this  and  other  phenomena  have  been 
kept  at  the  request  of  scientific  societies  or  of  the 
Government,  and  I  will  quote  a  little  from  the 
ledger.  A  record  of  temperature,  by  the  way,  is 
also  kept,  and  other  meteorological  facts.  The 
highest  recorded  temperature  on  the  Rock  was  73 
degrees,  Fahrenheit.  During  the  daytimes  of  our 
stay  the  mercury  indicated  from  48  to  55.  Who- 
ever visits  the  Bird  Rocks,  even  in  summer,  should 
wear  winter  clothes  and  not  forget  a  heavy  overcoat. 
Here  is  a  calendar  of  the  arrivals  of  the  birds  in 
the  season  of  1 900 — as  the  Keeper  had  it : 
March  14.  I  dozen  Kittiwakes 

"        15.      2  dozen  Kittiwakes 

"        16.      100  Kittiwakes 

"        1 8.      500  Kittiwakes.      Disappear  for   a  few 
days 

"       22.      1000  Kittiwakes 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 


appear,      and 


2  Gannets 


3- 
4* 

9- 
1 1. 

18. 

21. 

28. 


March  27.      Kittiwakes  all  back 
"        28.      About      2000      Murres 

depart 
April       2.      About  1000  Murres  return. 

seen 

Murres  all  arrived 
4  Gannets  seen 
Gannets  common 
50  Razor-bills  return 
Razor-bills  common 
6  Puffins  seen 
Puffins   common 
"        29.      Petrels  heard 
May        2.      Petrels  common 

The  following  is  the  record  as  kept  for  1895,  in 
accordance  with  a  printed  list  of  questions: 
Kittiwakes.      Arrived  March  1 1 
"  Next  seen  March  23 

"  Common  March  24 

"  Began  to  lay  May  23 

Murres.  Arrived  March  25 

"  Next  seen  April  3 

"  Common  April  3 

"  Began  to  lay  May  i  5 

Gannets.          Arrived  April  i 
"  Common  April   i  2 

"  Began  to  lay  May  5 

Razor-bills.     Arrived  April  1 8 
"  Common  April  1 8 

"  Began  to  lay  May  24 

Puffins.  Arrived  April  26 

"  Common  April  26 

"  Began  to  lay  May  26 

72 


MODERN    CLIFF-DWELLERS 

Petrels.  Arrived  May  6 

"  Common  May  6 

"  Began  to  lay  May  29 

Saturday,  the  23rd  of  June,  dawned  clear  and 
calm.  After  breakfast  we  started  out  on  a  trip  to 
North  Bird  Rock,  as  the  sea  was  smooth,  and  all 
conditions  favourable.  The  other  men  lowered  me, 
in  charge  of  the  cameras  and  various  equipments,  in 
the  crate,  and  then  climbed  down  the  long  ladder. 
There  was  a  dory  up  on  one  of  the  lower  ledges, 
out  of  the  reach  of  any  ordinary  sea.  They  manage 
this  very  nicely  by  attaching  the  hoisting  apparatus, 
thus  easily  swinging  it  up  or  down.  The  Keeper 
and  his  son  rowed.  As  we  neared  the  rocks,  the 
Gannets,  far  wilder  than  on  the  main  rock  where 
they  have  become  accustomed  to  the  presence  of 
man,  began  to  fly  off  in  clouds,  and  I  took  a  couple 
of  snapshots,  which,  owing  to  the  plunging  of  the 
boat,  were  not  very  successful.  The  rock  is  in  two 
parts.  The  main  part,  occupying  hardly  more  than 
an  acre  of  space,  begins  with  a  few  low  ledges,  then 
rises  up  precipitous  about  forty  feet.  The  top  was 
covered  white  with  Gannets  on  their  nests,  as  was 
the  other  part,  a  most  interesting  formation.  This 
is  called  the  "Pillar,"  or  "Pinnacle,"  consisting  of 
a  perpendicular  column  of  rock  rising  sheer  out  of 
the  water  some  sixty  or  seventy  feet,  and,  I  should 
think,  absolutely  unclimbable. 

There  is  no  beach  to  these  rocks,  and  the  sea, 
comparatively  calm  as  it  was,  rushed  upon  the 
ledges  with  considerable  violence.  Awaiting  a  good 
chance,  we  ran  our  boat  on  to  a  flat  rock  and 
jumped  out.  First  we  both  took  pictures  of  the 

1} 


f    t 


74 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 


Pinnacle,  that  stood  about  a  hundred  yards  off,  with 
shallow  water  intervening.  Then  we  undertook  to 
scale  the  cliff.  Kittiwakes  had  nests  here  and  there 
on  the  sides,  a  few  of  them  within  reach  by  a  little 
climbing.  Fortunately  there  were  ledges  and  pro- 
jections not  far  apart.  We  let  young  Bourque 
climb  up  first,  using  my  shoulders  for  a  ladder,  and 
had  him  pull  us 
up.  Thus  we 
reached  ledge 
after  ledge,  until 
we  were  safely 
landed  on  the  top. 
This  we  found  to 
consist  of  bare  flat 
rock,  which  was 
covered  with  nests 
of  the  Gannets 
about  a  yard  apart 
all  over  the  area. 
They  were  piles 
of  sea-weed,  more 

or    less    bulky,    and    most    of    them    were    empty. 
Later  in  the  day  we  learned  the  cause. 

I  selected  one  of  the  nests  to  photograph,  a  good 
large  one  with  an  egg  in  it  and  a  sizable  fish  laid 
up  on  the  edge  for  future  use.  Just  then  the 
Keeper  called  out,  from  below — "  Gentlemen,  we 
must  leave;  there's  a  squall  coming!"  Looking 
toward  the  west  and  north,  I  saw  a  threatening 
haze  and  an  evident  line  of  wind,  shown  by  a 
whitened  sea.  I  hurried  so  that  I  spoiled  one  plate, 
but  I  got  the  nest  raken,  and  then,  without  stopping 

75 


'l  SELECTED  ONE  OF  THE  [OANNETS*]  NESTS  TO 

PHOTOGRAPH,  A  GOOD  LARGE  ONE  WITH 

AN  EGG  IN   IT  AND  A  SIZABLE  FISH 

LAID  UP  ON  THE  EDGE  " 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

to  examine  further,  we  made  the  descent,  lowering 
one  another  from  ledge  to  ledge.  I  told  the 
anxious  Keeper  that  I  must  have  five  minutes  more, 
and  rushed  around  to  the  other  side  of  the  island, 
where  I  could  see  what  I  named  "  the  Rift."  It 
was  as  though  the  island  had  at  some  time  cracked 
apart,  leaving  an  opening  a  few  rods  across,  with 
perpendicular  sides  that  furnished  nesting-places  for 
a  number  of  Kittiwakes.  I  do  not  remember  see- 
ing any  Murres  or  Razor-bills,  though  there  may 
have  been  a  few  on  the  sides  not  examined.  The 
sea  evidently  washes  through  this  rift  at  times, 
though  now  one  could  walk  across.  I  got  time  for 
one  picture  of  it,  and  another  of  the  Pinnacle, 
before  the  Keeper  protested  that  I  must  come,  and 
fairly  dragged  me  into  the  boat.  The  wind  was 
rising  and  the  sea  increasing.  We  got  back  to 
Great  Bird  Rock,  -however,  before  the  squall 
finally  came.  Then  the  wind  blew  quite  hard 
and  the  rain  poured  down  for  some  time,  when  it 
cleared  again,  giving  us  a  beautiful  calm,  sunny 
afternoon. 

I  spent  the  first  part  of  the  afternoon  getting 
pictures  of  various  birds  by  setting  the  camera  on 
the  rocks  where  they  alit,  with  the  tube  attached. 
Later  I  went  down  with  the  Keeper  again  to  the 
Gannet  colony  on  the  ledge  at  the  north-west  cor- 
ner, and  did  some  photography,  as  on  the  first  visit 
I  did  not  take  the  camera.  Returning  to  the 
top,  the  Keeper  tied  a  rope  under  my  arms,  and 
held  it  while  I  climbed  down  to  a  ledge  near 
the  top  where  a  number  of  Murres  were  nesting, 
and  secured  a  few  identified  eggs  of  both  species, 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 


having    previously    made    a    record    of   the    species 
of  the  birds   in   order,  as  they  sat  on   the   eggs. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  episodes  during  our 
stay  was  the  descent  in  the  crate  to  photograph  the 
birds  nesting  on  the  adjacent  wall  of  the  cliff. 
This  west  side  of  the  island  was  under  the  full  glare 
of  the  afternoon  sun,  splendid  for  instantaneous 
exposures.  I  got  into  the  crate,  with  plenty  of 
plates,  and  was 
swung  out  and 
lowered,  until  I 
gave  the  signal  to 
stop.  All  about 
were  many  inter- 
esting subj  ec  ts, 
especially  Kitti- 
wakes,  that  I  had 
found  no  oppor- 
tunity to  photo- 
graph before,  also 
groups  of  Murres, 
and  off  to  one 

side  some  fine  Gannet  ledges,  with  long  arrays  of 
the  great,  snowy  birds.  The  best  subject  was  a 
mass  of  Murres  of  both  kinds  on  their  eggs,  and 
just  below  them  three  Kittiwakes  on  their  nests. 
They  were  all  within  ten  feet  of  the  course  of  the 
crate.  When  it  was  stopped  opposite  some  good 
subject  I  held  the  camera  on  the  little  railing  and 
got  the  exact  focus  of  the  birds,  which  did  not 
appear  to  mind  my  presence  particularly,  though 
they  kept  uttering  their  notes,  and  now  and  then 
one  would  leave,  though  it  soon  returned.  Then  I 

77 


AN    INCUBATING    BRUNNICH  S    MURRE 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

put  in  the  plate  and  made  ready,  placing  the  camera 
in  the  same  position  on  the  railing,  and  making 
instantaneous  exposures.  The  crate  kept  turning 
around,  but  so  slowly  that  it  made  no  difference, 
the  view-finder  of  the  camera  giving  the  exact 
range.  Thus  I  was  lowered  successively  from  ledge 
to  ledge,  swinging  off  in  mid-air,  till  I  had  photo- 
graphed everything  within  useful  range,  when  I 


"JUST   BELOW   THEM  [\VERE]  THREE   KITTIWAKES   ON  THEIR  NESTS  " 

signalled  to  be  drawn  up.  There  were  no  birds 
nesting  close  to  the  other  hoisting-apparatus,  or  I 
should  have  made  a  descent  there  too. 

Earlier  in  the  afternoon  we  had  seen  a  schooner 
anchor  off  North  Bird  Rock.  A  dory  went  ashore, 
and  we  could  hear  the  gunshots  as  they  were  killing 
the  birds.  After  a  time  the  men  rowed  over  to  the 
main  rock,  landed,  and  two  of  them,  and  a  boy, 
climbed  up  the  ladder.  The  men  went  around  shoot- 
ing raking  shots  along  the  lines  of  birds  upon  their 
nests,  mowing  them  down.  Most  of  those  killed 
simply  lay  dead  upon  the  nesting-spot,  where  they 

79 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

were  inaccessible.  A  few  fell  to  the  water,  and 
were  picked  up  by  the  boat,  where  they  had  quite  a 
pile  of  birds  and  a  couple  of  pails  of  eggs.  My 
indignation  at  this  atrocity  was  tempered  by  the 
fact  that  the  men  were  ignorant  and  probably 
hungry  for  fresh  meat.  Yet  for  all  that  they 


GANNETS,    MURRES    AND    KITTIWAKES,    FROM    THE    CRATE 

ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  slaughter  the  breed- 
ing birds.  Owing  to  this  there  are  only  a  few 
thousands  left  here  at  present  out  of  former  in- 
numerable multitudes,  and  all  these  interesting 
and  beautiful  sea-birds  are  becoming  scarcer  every 
year.  Why  cannot  the  Canadian  Government 
protect  them  by  law,  and  make  these  lighthouse 
keepers,  or  others,  game-wardens,  with  full  powers 

80 


MODERN    CLIFF-DWELLERS 

to    protect    the    birds  ?       This    is    something    that 
bird-lovers   may   well  strive  to   have    accomplished. 


Never  can  I  forget  the  impressions  of  the  Sunday 
that  I  spent  on  Bird  Rock.  The  sky  was  overcast, 
with  a  very  strong  wind  from  the  south-east,  raw 
and  chill,  with  occasional  showers.  The  mercury 
did  not  rise  above  50  degrees  during  the  day,  and 
the  heaviest  clothing  was  none  too  warm.  Bundled 
up  in  overcoat  and  rubber-boots,  I  sat  on  the  edge 
of  the  cliff  among  the  rocks  at  the  south  end,  and 
"  beheld  the  fowls  of  the  air/'  If  possible,  the 
spectacle  was  even  more  impressive  than  on  the 
previous  days  of  my  stay,  for  it  seemed  as  though 
every  bird  was  in  motion.  This  was  in  accord  with 
the  Keeper's  observation  that  the  birds  fly  most  in 
windy  weather.  They  were  like  the  ships,  that 
spread  their  sails  to  the  favouring  breezes.  Each 
individual  bird,  seemingly,  would  sit  upon  its  egg 
or  eggs  just  enough  to  keep  them  warm,  starting 
away  for  a  few  turns  out  over  the  water  at  frequent 
intervals.  I  could  never  tire  of  these  sights. 

On  Monday  morning  the  sky  was  again  over- 
cast, and,  just  as  I  had  set  out  the  camera  to  try  a 
short  "time  exposure"  on  some  Puffins,  the  rain 
began,  and  poured  down  furiously  most  of  the  day. 
Banks  of  fog  lay  off  around  the  Rock,  and  the 
dynamite  bomb  exploded  regularly  every  twenty 
minutes,  the  warning  to  vessels.  The  time  was 
when  these  fog-signals  frightened  the  birds,  causing 
them  to  start  so  hurriedly  from  their  nests  as  to 
cause  many  eggs  to  fall  down  the  cliffs.  But  now  I 

81 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

could  not  see  that  they  were  alarmed  in  the  least  by 
the  explosions,  and  I  did  not  see  a  single  egg  fall 
during  my  stay.  This  was  the  day  when  the 
schooner  was  to  return  for  us,  so,  under  the  circum- 
stances, we  busied  ourselves  preparing  a  few  speci- 
mens and  getting  ready  for  the  possible  departure, 
notwithstanding  that  it  looked  as  though  our  visit 
might  be  prolonged. 

Several  land-birds  had  taken  refuge  on  Bird 
Rock,  one  of  which  was  a  Long-eared  Owl.  Sun- 
day night  it  flew  out  from  under  the  lighthouse, 
•and  next  morning  the  Keeper  shot  it  as  it  flew  out 
again.  He  thought  it  would  kill  his  chickens,  and, 
though  such  a  practice  is  quite  foreign  to  the 
species,  I  could  not  guarantee  that  it  would  not  have 
done  it  under  pressure  of  starvation.  Indeed,  who 
would  not  ?  As  I  entered  the  tool-house,  a  bird  was 
fluttering  against  the  window,  a  Black-billed  Cuckoo, 
as  I  found  by  catching  it,  of  which  species  I  had 
seen  several  individuals  on  the  main  islands  of  the 
group.  I  let  it  go  in  the  open,  and  off  it  went  with 
the  wind,  northward,  toward  Newfoundland,  where  I 
trust  it  arrived  safely  in  due  time.  I  also  observed 
a  Bittern  and  a  pair  of  White-winged  Crossbills. 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  with  a 
change  of  wind  to  the  west,  the  clouds  broke  and 
the  sun  shone  out  for  awhile.  I  took  a  few  more 
general  views  of  the  great  bird-colony,  and  then  set 
the  camera  on  the  rocks  for  shots  at  close  range. 
But  the  birds  were  restless,  flying  almost  constantly, 
and  would  not  gather  where  I  wanted  them.  Be- 
fore I  succeeded  in  getting  a  single  group,  we  saw 
the  schooner  coming,  several  miles  away. 

82 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

Soon  the  dory  landed,  and,  bidding  our  friends 
good-bye,  bag  and  baggage  we  were  lowered  down 
in  the  crate.  I  photographed  the  crate,  and  then 
the  cliffs  and  the  hoisting  apparatus  as  seen  from 
the  dory.  Soon  we  were  on  board  the  schooner 
and  were  scudding  rapidly  southward  with  free 
sheets,  many  of  the  birds  following  us  in  farewell 
salute,  while  other  salutations  came  through  bomb 
and  flag,  and  we  waved  back  expressions  of  our 
friendly  feeling  for  the  brave  spirits  imprisoned 
upon  that  grim,  lonely  rock. 


To  complete  our  study  of  the  Cliff-Dwellers  at 
the  Magdalen  Islands,  several  species  that  did  not 
breed  at  Bird  Rock  had  to  be  followed  up.  One 
was  the  Cormorant,  that  near  relative  of  the 
Gannet,  which  differs  from  it,  in  colour,  about  as 
darkness  from  light.  Evidently  they  were  not 
plenty,  for  all  we  saw  were  an  occasional  one  or 
two  flying  over  the  Bay  inside  Grand  Entry,  usually 
headed  toward  Shag  Rock.  Unlike  the  Gannets, 
too,  they  are  exceedingly  shy.  All  that  I  have  ever 
met,  here  or  elsewhere,  that  came  near  enough  to 
be  identified,  were  the  Double-crested  species.  The 
so-called  "Common"  kind  seems  to  be  a  very 
elusive  bird,  unless  it  be  in  the  far  north. 

Evidently  Shag  Rock  must  be  our  destination, 
if  we  were  to  see  much  of  the  Cormorants.  So  one 
morning,  with  high  hopes,  we  started  out  in  the 
fisherman's  boat  for  that  grim  little  rock  twenty  miles 
to  the  westward.  Unfortunately  the  wind  soon  hauled 
out  ahead  and  died  away  completely.  So,  after  get- 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

ting  half  way  there,  we  had  to  give  it  up,  and  going 
ashore  on  the  sand-bar  that  formed  the  east  side  of 
the  lagoon,  solaced  ourselves  among  the  abounding 
Gulls,  Terns  and  Plovers.  Here,  after  all,  we  probably 
found  more  of  interest  than  we  should  have  done  on 
the  rock,  for  on  our  return  we  met  a  man  who  had 
been  there  a  summer  or  two  ago  and  had  noticed 
nothing  but  Terns  breeding.  It  is  thus  probable 
that  the  Cormorants  use  the  rock  merely  as  a  roost. 

There  were  still  the  Black  Guillemot  and  Raven 
to  be  investigated,  and  not  far  from  our  head- 
quarters was  a  most  picturesque  place  where  both 
were  found.  This  is  a  tremendous  headland  and 
cliff  that  fronts  on  the  inside  bay  well  up  toward  its 
head  near  East  Point,  known  as  "  East  Cape."  One 
can  walk  up  a  steep  grassy  slope  in  the  rear,  and 
then  look  over  a  perpendicular  cliff  some  two  hun- 
dred feet  high.  The  soft  rock  keeps  crumbling 
away,  and  now  and  then  a  fragment  falls,  to  add  to 
the  pile  of  debris  that  has  gathered  below,  which  in 
some  places  reaches  half  way  up  the  cliff. 

As  we  approached  it  the  first  time,  in  a  boat,  a 
flock  of  nearly  twenty  Ravens  rose  and  hovered  over 
the  summit,  startled  from  their  nests  or  roost  on  the 
ledges,  and  flew  away  when  they  saw  that  we  in- 
tended to  land.  The  debris  from  the  cliff  came  to 
the  water's  edge  and  made  it  a  very  rough  spot  for 
disembarking.  But,  having  an  off-shore  wind,  we 
luffed  the  boat  up  near  enough  to  leap  out.  Black 
Guillemots,  hearing  our  voices,  began  to  fly  out 
from  holes  high  up  above  us,  to  settle  well  out  in 
the  water.  By  clapping  our  hands  and  shouting, 
we  started  a  number  more.  Then,  despite  the 

84 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

frequently  falling  fragments,  we  climbed  up  the  pile 
of  loose  rocks  that  sloped  at  a  steep  incline  of  more 
than  forty-five  degrees,  and  got  about  half  way  up 
the  cliff.  There  we  could  see  a  number  of  the 
nests  of  the  Raven,  platforms  of  crooked  sticks, 
placed  on  ledges  of  the  rocks  or  at  the  entrance  of 
small  caves.  One  nest  in  particular  was  very  large, 
almost  like  an  Osprey's.  None  seemed  to  be  lower 
down  than  somewhat  above  the  top  of  the  pile  of 
debris,  and  the  upper  ones  were  not  over  fifteen  feet 
or  so  below  the  summit  of  the  cliff.  Some  of  the 
young  fishermen,  I  am  told,  think  nothing  of 
climbing  down  a  rope  to  get  Ravens'  eggs.  For 
my  part  I  felt  no  inclination  to  try  it,  as,  mid-way 
on  the  cliff,  I  gazed  up  and  down  the  dizzy  height, 
and  finally  picked  my  way  down  the  rocks.  Of 
course  by  this  time  the  young  were  all  awing,  as 
the  eggs  are  laid  in  the  latter  part  of  March  or 
early  in  April. 

There  was  no  possibility  here  of  reaching  the 
nests  of  the  Black  Guillemot,  but,  fortunately,  they 
were  less  inaccessible  in  certain  other  places.  All 
over  the  Magdalen  Islands  scattered  pairs  nest  in  the 
caves  that  the  sea  washes  out  in  the  sandstone  banks  or 
cliffs.  In  one  cave  near  our  headquarters  a  pair  had 
their  two  handsome  spotted  eggs  on  the  bare  rock 
of  a  little  shelf,  about  as  high  as  one  could  reach 
above  the  water.  The  only  way  to  get  at  them  was 
on  a  very  calm  day  to  row  a  boat  right  into  the 
cave.  As  the  inevitable  swell  rolled  in  after  the 
boat,  suggesting  the  effect  that  a  larger  wave  might 
produce,  the  inclination  was  not  unnatuial  to  get 
out  of  the  uncanny  place  as  quickly  as  possible. 

85 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

On  the  Fourth  of  July,  the  steamer  arrived 
about  the  middle  of  the  morning,  and,  bundled  up 
in  overcoats  and  winter  clothing,  we  bade  farewell 
to  these  wintry  but  interesting  islands,  in  two  days' 
travel  reaching  a  temperature  of  one  hundred  in  the 
shade  in  sweltering  New  England,  when  we  wished 
we  were  back  again  among  the  Murres.  Our 
experience  tallied  with  that  of  the  Gloucester  fisher- 
man who  remarked  that  he  had  experienced  three 
winters  in  one  year — one  at  the  Grand  Banks,  one 
in  Gloucester,  and  a  third  with  the  summer  mack- 
erel fleet  at  the  Magdalen  Islands. 


Better  even  than  the  Magdalens  for  the  study  of 
certain  of  these  species  that  we  are  considering  are 
some  other  places  that  I  have  visited.  As  for  the 
Double-crested  Cormorants,  though  I  have  not  as 
yet  been  privileged  to  visit  their  breeding-grounds 
on  the  cliffs  of  Newfoundland  and  Labrador,  I  have 
become  very  fafhiliar  with  a  fine  colony  of  them  in 
the  West,  which  I  shall  describe  in  another  chapter. 
Regarding  the  Ravens  and  Black  Guillemots,  though 
they  abound  in  the  very  far  North,  I  do  not  know 
where  they  can  be  more  easily  and  safely  observed 
than  on  our  own  coast  of  Maine.  Here  their 
Mecca  is  the  islands  of  Penobscot  Bay,  and  they 
are  accessible  without  risking  one's  life  on  the 
terrible  cliffs  of  the  northern  seas.  For  want  of 
such  cliffs,  where  a  nest  is  practically  safe,  the 
Raven  considers  a  spruce  tree  amid  the  thick  forests 
of  the  lonely  islets  as  the  likeliest  shelter.  Here 

86 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

many  of  them  breed,  and  likewise  on  various  spruc^- 
grown  islands  of  New  Brunswick  and  Nova  Scotia. 

Though  I  have  not  visited  their  haunts  at  the 
nesting  season,  I  nevertheless  had  the  pleasure  of  a 
close  inspection  of  a  Raven's  nest  on  an  uninhabited 
island  of  Penobscot  Bay.  About  the  middle  of 
May,  when  the  Herring  Gulls  were  laying  their 
first  eggs  on  this  island,  a  party  of  boys  discovered  a 
Ravens'  nest  in  a  spruce  tree,  containing  three  well- 
grown  young.  These  they  carried  home  with 
them,  and  were  keeping  them,  when  I  arrived  a 
month  later,  in  a  hen-house,  as  they  had  tried  to 
escape  to  the  woods.  One  day  the  boys  took  me 
to  the  nest.  The  spruces  on  the  island  are  not 
large,  and  the  nest,  though  two-thirds  way  up,  was 
only  about  twenty  feet  from  the  ground.  Climbing 
to  it,  I  found  it  to  resemble  the  Crows'  nests  seen 
on  the  island,  only  it  was  much  larger.  It  was 
built  of  large  crooked  sticks,  some  of  them  as  thick 
as  one's  thumb,  hollowed  deeply.  The  lining  was 
of  grass  and  sheep's  wool,  of  which  latter  there  was 
an  ample  supply  from  the  flock  that  had  been 
ferried  over  and  left  to  run  at  large.  The  well- 
picked  carcasses  that  lay  here  and  there  suggested 
the  well-known  carnivorous  habits  of  the  Raven. 

As  for  the  Black  Guillemots,  on  many  a  rocky 
islet  there  is  a  small  colony  of  them,  of  from  two 
or  three  pairs  up  to  thirty  or  more.  To  one  such, 
near  Matinicus,  I  have  often  been.  It  is  a  low- 
lying  strip,  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  long  and 
rather  narrow,  composed  almost  wholly  of  round 
stones  and  boulders  heaped  together  in  wild  confu- 
sion. Sometimes  I  have  rowed  there  in  a  fog,  by 

87 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

compass,  again  under  clear  skies,  with  calm  summer 
sea.  As  we  approach  it  is  usual  to  see  about 
thirty  birds,  some  of  them  in  the  water  just  off 
the  island,  others  sitting  on  the  rocks,  conspicuous 
with  their  deep  green-black  bodies  and  the  large 
white  patch  on  each  wing.  Watching  a  chance, 
we  run  the  boat  up  on  a  flat  ledge  and  haul  it  well 
out.  The  Guillemots  fly,  all  that  are  in  sight, 
but  there  are  nearly  as  many  more  in  under  the 
rocks  upon  their  nests,  if  our  visit  is  within  a  month 
after  the  middle  of  June,  at  about  which  date  the 
eggs  are  laid. 

Now  comes  the  awkward  and  possibly  painful 
part  of  the  procedure,  if  we  would  see  their  beauti- 
ful eggs — selecting  a  hole  under  some  rock,  partic- 
ularly if  there  be  droppings  about  the  entrance,  to 
get  down  flat  on  on  one's  face  and  try  to  look  in. 
It  may  require  many  attempts  of  this  kind  before  a 
discovery  quickens  the  pulse.  Knees  are  bruised, 
the  back  is  tired  and  the  neck  is  lamed.  It  seems 
as  though  there  were  a  million  stones  to  look  under, 
and  even  thirty  nests  among  them  seem  discourag- 
ingly  few.  But  success  is  bound  to  follow.  There 
is  one  flat  rock  where,  every  season  that  I  have 
come,  there  has  been  a  nest,  so  we  will  look  there. 
Yes,  there  is  the  bird  squatting  far  underneath.  She 
sees  us  and  scurries  further  back,  leaving  her  two 
handsomely  blotched  eggs.  The  stone  weighs 
more  than  a  ton,  so  we  cannot  move  it,  nor  are  the 
eggs  within  arm's  reach.  But  with  a  piece  of  drift- 
wood, if  we  wish,  we  can  pry  them  out  over  the 
pebbles,  among  which,  without  any  soft  lining,  they 
are  laid.  There  is  little  danger  of  breaking  them, 

88 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

as  the  egg-shells  produced  by  all  these  birds  that 
lay  on  the  bare  rock  are  of  flinty  hardness — a  won- 
derful provision  of  Nature. 

There  is  a  nice  colony  of  some  seventy-five 
pairs  or  more  of  these  birds,  along  with  many  hun- 
dreds of  the  Arctic  Tern,  also  on  "  Matinicus 
Rock,"  which  locality  I  shall  describe  in  another 
chapter.  Here  the  Guillemots  nest  in  great  crevices 
or  clefts  of  the  main  body  of  the  rock  and  under 
separate  boulders.  Along  with  them  are  a  few 
pairs  of  Puffins,  this  being  their  southernmost 
breeding-ground  on  the  Atlantic  coast.  Strangely 
enough,  when  I  was  there  last,  no  one  in  the  two 
families  on  the  little  island  had  ever  seen  a  Puffin's 
egg,  though  they  had  often  tried  to  find  one. 
There  is  no  soil  in  which  these  "  Sea  Parrots  "  can 
burrow,  so  they  crawl  in  under  the  largest  rocks, 
and  perhaps  down  under  further  layers,  through 
winding  passages.  Try  my  best,  I,  too,  had  to  own 
myself  beaten  in  this  search. 

During  one  of  my  visits  to  this  island  I  saw  an 
albino  "  Black  "  Guillemot  in  the  colony.  At  first 
it  was  out  in  the  water  with  a  flock  of  its  darker 
brethren,  acting  and  appearing  just  like  the  others, 
except  for  its  colour.  Later  my  companion  sur- 
prised it  sitting  upon  the  rocks.  It  flew  from  a 
spot  only  a  few  feet  from  him,  giving  him  a  splen- 
did view,  particularly  of  its  back.  As  far  as  he 
could  see,  it  was  of  a  creamy  white  all  over,  save 
for  some  gray  markings  on  the  back.  Anxious 
to  secure  this  remarkable  specimen,  I  borrowed 
a  gun  from  one  of  the  Keepers,  and  went  in  search 
of  it,  without,  however,  being  able  to  catch  sight 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

of  it  again.  No  doubt  it  was  taking  its  turn 
upon  the  nest.  So  anxious  was  I  to  learn  of  it 
further  that,  a  few  days  later,  I  made  a  special 
trip  again  to  this  remote  rock,  only  to  be  disap- 
pointed. I  did  not  see  anything  of  it,  nor  had 
any  of  the  people  noticed  it.  It  was  tantalizing 
probably  to  be  walking  a  few  feet  over  it,  and 
yet,  despite  all  my  peering  under  the  rocks,  not  to 
discover  it. 

However  I  was  repaid  for  the  effort  by  the 
privilege  of  examining  a  few  more  of  the  fine  eggs 
of  the  "  Sea  Pigeons,"  each  set  different  in  mark- 
ings and  each  nesting-spot  chosen  having  some 
interesting  feature.  Even  with  all  the  din  of  the 
hovering  Terns,  we  could  often  detect  the  location 
of  the  nest  by  a  peculiar  rustling  sound,  as  the  incu- 
bating bird  scurried,  at  our  approach,  further  under 
the  sheltering  rock.  Then  comes  the  pleasure  and 
excitement  of  seeing  if  the  eggs  can  be  gotten  at. 
And  what  a  source  of  enjoyment  it  is  to  sit  on  the 
rocks,  quite  well  out  of  sight,  and  see  the  pretty 
creatures  pass  and  repass,  often  close  to  one's  face, 
with  that  little  murmuring  sound,  noting  the  green 
gloss  of  the  black  plumage,  and  the  coral-red  legs 
extended  out  behind,  or  dangling  when  their  owner 
is  about  to  alight.  Now  and  then  a  Puffin  whirrs 
by,  giving  variety  with  its  grotesque,  painted  bill 
and  its  paler  orange  legs.  After  many  circlings 
back  and  to,  out  to  sea  and  in  again,  at  length  a 
Guillemot  alights  quite  near.  Then  another  comes, 
and  presently  there  is  quite  a  little  group,  perhaps 
eight  or  ten,  waddling  about,  or  sitting  in  a  slanting 
attitude,  not  as  erect  as  the  Murres,  it  seemed  to 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

me,  nor  as  horizontal  as  the  Puffins.  How  these 
scenes  impress  themselves  on  the  memory  of  a 
bird-lover! 


After  the  breeding -season  the  various  Cliff- 
Dwelle^s  leave  their  summer  haunts  and  scatter  over 
the  ocean,  yet  keeping  mostly  "on  soundings."  By 
the  latter  part  of  September,  or  early  October,  lines 
of  Cormorants,  with  slow,  measured  flight  begin  to 
wing  their  way  along  the  southern  New  England 
coast,  even  flying  over  the  land.  Many  people  mis- 
take this  for  an  early  flight  of  Geese,  and  wonder 
why  they  fly  at  this  time  in  silence,  without 
"  honking."  Quite  often  flocks  alight  in  the  larger 
ponds  to  rest  and  quench  their  thirst.  I  recall  how, 
one  beautiful  October  day,  about  thirty  of  them 
settled  down  in  Lake  Nippenickett,  and  remained 
out  in  the  centre  for  over  half  an  hour,  resting  and 
drinking  the  fresh  water.  Then  they  rose,  to  con- 
tinue their  southward  flight.  Unfortunately  for 
them  they  passed  over  a  gunning-stand  on  a  point 
of  land,  where  a  hunter  lay  in  wait  for  ducks. 
Though  they  were  quite  high  up,  one  shot  took 
effect,  and  a  great  black  creature  came  tumbling 
down.  When  I  reached  the  spot  I  found  that  it 
was  a  Double-crested  Cormorant.  At  any  time 
during  the  autumn  they  may  be  seen  resorting  to 
certain  low,  rocky  islands  and  ledges  off  the  coast, 
and  to  some  extent  during  the  winter.  Returning 
northward  in  the  spring,  they  gather  in  flocks  in 
certain  bays,  and  fly  out,  often  over  projections  of 
land.  A  fisherman,  some  years  ago,  told  me  that 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

they  did  thus  from  the  bay  at  Plymouth,  Mass,, 
crossing  Gurnet  Beach,  at  which  times  they  were 
easily  shot.  During  late  fall  and  winter  the  so- 
called  "  Common  "  Cormorant  is  also  found  spar- 
ingly along  the  coast. 

It  is  late  in  the  fall,  about  the  first  of  November, 
before  the  Murres  and  their  allies  stray  as  far  from 
their  northern  haunts  as  the  Massachusetts  coast, 
beyond  which  not  very  many  of  them  ordinarily  are 
supposed  to  go,  except  as  they  are  driven  by  severe 
northerly  gales.  They  are  hardy  creatures,  little 
inclined  to  migrate  from  the  latitude  of  their  breed- 
ing-grounds, save  as  the  closing  in  of  the  ice  makes 
it  expedient.  Most  of  them  keep  well  out  to  sea, 
especially  frequenting  the  shoals  and  banks  where 
fish  are  abundant.  If  the  season  is  mild  and  devoid 
of  severe  gales,  they  keep  well  to  the  north.  In 
very  wintry  weather  they  come  in  around  the 
mouths  of  harbours.  One  bitter  December  morn- 
ing, with  the  mercury  at  zero,  I  watched  a  group 
of  Murres  in  Lynn  harbour,  off  Nahant.  There 
was  a  channel-post  that  sloped  considerably  with 
the  tide,  and  these  Murres"  would  waddle  up  the 
incline,  sit  awhile,  then  dive  headlong,  and  climb 
up  again,  seeming  to  greatly  enjoy  this  sport.  They 
do  not  ordinarily  come  in  large  numbers  into  Cape 
Cod  bay,  though  off  Manomet  I  occasionally  see  in 
the  winter  a  line  of  Murres  skim  by.  One  calm, 
misty  day  in  December,  as  I  lay  at  anchor  there  in 
a  dory  off  on  the  fishing-ground,  watching  the 
Gulls  and  Gannets,  a  solitary  Razor-billed  Auk 
suddenly  emerged  from  the  swell  only  a  few  feet 
away,  and  for  some  minutes  bobbed  around  in  the 

92 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

usual  comical  manner,  with  "stern"  high  out  of 
water,  its  tail  erected,  squinting  at  me  with  its  sharp 
little  eyes.  Suddenly  it  sank,  as  mysteriously  as  it 
had  appeared,  and  that  was  all  I  saw  of  this  waif  of 
the  ocean. 

While  it  is  not  surprising  that  birds  like  the 
Puffin  and  Razor-bill,  that  breed  quite  far  to  the 
north,  prefer  to  winter  north  of  Massachusetts,  we 
certainly  might  expect  to  see  more  of  the  Black 
Guillemot,  since  it  breeds  so  abundantly  no  further 
away  than  the  coast  of  Maine.  Now  and  then  I 
have  seen  a  small  party  of  them  in  mid-winter  off 
the  rocks  of  Manomet,  and  similar  places,  yet  rather 
infrequently.  But  around  Matinicus  at  that  season 
they  are  more  abundant  than  ever.  How  different 
our  familiar  "Sea  Pigeon"  looks  in  its  winter  dress, 
the  black  of  summer  changed  to  gray  and  white. 
The  only  thing  about  it  that  looks  natural  is  the 
white  patch  on  the  wing. 

I  know  of  no  better  place  to  observe  the  sea- 
birds  off  the  Massachusetts  coast  in  winter  than  on 
the  fishing-grounds  off  Chatham.  One  favourable 
day  in  my  experience  will  illustrate  what  may  be 
seen.  I  was  spending  Christmas  week  with  a  fisher- 
man for  the  purpose  of  studying  the  various  marine 
birds,  and  had  arranged  with  him  to  sail  me  out 
over  the  bars  upon  the  first  possible  occasion.  For 
nearly  the  whole  week  the  bars  were  too  rough  to 
cross.  But  on  the  last  day  of  the  old  year,  dark 
and  threatening  though  it  was,  we  made  the  attempt, 
and  succeeded  in  getting  "  outside."  Just  off  the 
entrance  we  began  to  meet  Brunnich's  Murres  bob- 
bing about  on  the  water.  By  the  time  we  got 

93 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

three  or  four  miles  off  the  land,  the  sea  was  fairly 
alive  with  them,  while  Kittiwakes  were  flitting 
about  in  all  directions,  plunging  Tern-like  into  the 
water  after  small  fish. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  scene  that  ensued  when 
a  school  of  these  small  fry  rose  to  the  surface,  prob^ 
ably  chased  by  the  Haddock  or  Dog-fish  below. 
The  birds  instantly  discovered  the  school,  and  made 
for  it.  The  air  was  full  of  excited  Kittiwakes, 
hovering,  plunging  and  fluttering  up  with  their 
prey.  Line  after  line  of  Murres  likewise  came 
flying  up,  and,  pitching  down  into  the  water,  dove 
and  fed.  In  a  few  moments  the  water  for  about  an 
acre  was  a  mass  of  struggling  birds.  At  length 
they  so  alarmed  the  fish  that  these  preferred  facing 
their  finny  enemies  to  this  feathered  onslaught,  and, 
with  a  simultaneous  leap,  they  were  gone.  It  was 
surprising  how  quickly  the  birds  scattered  again. 

We  beat  some  eight  or  ten  miles  ofF-shore 
against  the  moderate  easterly  wind  to  the  fishing- 
ground,  noticing  that  the  line  of  the  greatest 
abundance  of  birds  was  about  half  way  out.  Yet 
there  were  quite  a  few  birds  on  the  fishing-ground. 
As  we  hauled  up  the  slimy  Cod,  Hake  and  Haddock, 
the  beautiful  Kittiwakes  hovered  close  around  us — 
so  unlike  the  wary  large  Gulls — as  though  begging 
for  the  titbits  of  liver  that  we  now  and  then  threw 
them.  They  seemed  to  have  absolutely  no  fear  of 
man,  flying  back  and  forth  so  near  us  as  barely  to 
avoid  our  sail  and  rigging.  It  almost  seemed  that 
they  could  be  taught  to  feed  out  of  one's  hand. 
The  Murres,  or  "  Noddies,"  as  the  Chatham  fisher- 
men call  them,  came  also  for  their  share.  As  they 

94 


MODERN   CLIFF-DWELLERS 

paddled  around  close  to  the  stern  of  the  sloop  in  the 
characteristic  attitude  of  this  class  of  birds,  breast 
well  down  in  the  water  and  rump  considerably 
elevated,  I  thought  of  them  as  miniatures  of  the 
ancient  ships  that  Virgil  wrote  about,  with  their 
"  lofty  sterns/'  I  used  this  opportunity  to  try  to 
discover  some  of  the  "  Common  "  Murres  among 
this  horde  of  Brunnich's,  but  did  not  see  a  single 
specimen  that  I  could  recognize  as  such.  This 
seems  to  be  the  universal  experience  of  observers, 
and  now,  despite  the  older  accounts,  it  is  questioned 
whether  the  "  Common  "  Murre  is  ever  found  as 
far  south  as  Massachusetts. 

One  special  treat  was  in  store  for  me.  While  I 
was  fishing,  happening  to  glance  "  to  the  nor'ard," 
I  saw  a  very  small  bird  skimming  like  a  bullet  low 
over  the  sea,  making  directly  for  the  boat.  It 
passed  close  by  on  tiny,  quick-beating  wings,  and, 
giving  me  only  this  brief,  precious  glimpse,  speedily 
disappeared  to  the  southward.  It  was  no  less  dis- 
tinguished a  personage  than  the  Dovekie,  or  Little 
Auk,  the  only  one  that  in  all  my  winter  ocean 
wanderings  I  have  ever  seen  alive. 

Next  day,  celebrating  the  New  Year,  I  was 
wandering  along  the  grim,  icy  beach  along  the 
"back  side  of  the  Cape,"  watching  the  birds  and 
the  breakers.  The  bedraggled  carcass  of  a  Razor- 
bill brought  to  mind  the  thought  of  the  terrible 
winter  storms  that  destroy  these  poor  creatures  by 
the  thousands.  It  is  well  known  that  they  are 
sometimes  blown  inland,  to  perish  in  the  snowdrifts. 
One  of  my  early  recollections  is  of  a  Puffin  being 
found  in  Jamaica  Pond,  Boston,  after  such  a  storm. 

95 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

Only  a  few  days  before  this  writing,  in  December, 
a  man  showed  me  the  remains  of  a  Brunnich's 
Murre  which  had  been  captured  forty  miles  from 
Long  Island  Sound,  in  western  Connecticut,  the  day 
following  an  easterly  gale  and  snowstorm.  The 
poor  thing  was  standing  on  the  ice  over  a  small 
river.  Though  too  much  exhausted  to  fly,  it  made 
quite  a  spirited  resistance  before  it  allowed  itself  to 
be  taken  by  hand.  The  captor  was  actually  cook- 
ing the  emaciated  body  for  supper  when  I  arrived 
upon  the  scene,  which  repast  I  felt  no  desire  to  share. 
From  the  standpoint  of  many,  January  is  an 
uncomfortable  time  for  wandering  on  sea  and  shore 
in  search  of  the  birds.  On  the  contrary,  the  ocean 
is  at  its  best  and  grandest  in  winter.  Would  one 
see  waves  ?  Take  the  train  for  the  coast  when  the 
wildest  gale  of  the  winter  is  raging,  and  there  will 
be  sights  to  stir  the  most  sluggish  blood.  And  as 
for  sea-birds,  there  are  few  indeed  in  summer,  as 
compared  with  the  ever-changing  panorama  of  fowl 
that  wing  their  way  over  the  unutterable  wildness 
of  ice-bound  bay  and  restless  wintry  sea.  Can  one 
be  a  thorough  ornithologist  and  not  know  the  sea- 
fowl  ?  Most  of  us  must  begin  with  the  door-yard 
birds.  But  as  the  desire  grows  for  more  of  this 
interesting  bird-lore,  we  may  expect  that  it  will  lead 
us  to  visit  mountain  and  forest  and  shore,  even  the 
wintry  ocean  itself,  whenever  and  wherever  the 
wildest  of  the  feathered  tribes  are  to  be  found. 


96 


PART    III. 

OCEAN    WANDERERS 

(Shearwaters,    Skuas,    Petrels,    Phalaropes) 

I  SHALL  never  forget  the  day  on  which  began 
my  intimacy  with  a  class  of  birds  of  whose  existence 
I  had  been  hardly  more  than  aware — birds  that 


THE    REALM    OF    THE    OCEAN    WANDERERS 
OFF    EAST    POINT,    MAGDALEN    ISLANDS,     FAR    FROM    HUMAN    HABITATION 

make  the  billows  of  ocean  their  home.  It  was  the 
twelfth  of  July.  The  first  gray  of  the  morning 
found  me,  with  a  party  of  friends,  scudding  down 
the  bay  of  Chatham,  Mass.,  in  a  fishing  sloop.  A 
light  south-west  breeze  and  a  racing  tide  swept  us 

97 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

out  over  the  agitated  waters  of  the  harbour-bar,  than 
which  there  is  none  more  dangerous  on  our  coast. 
Then  the  fiery  ball  of  the  sun  rose  from  the  ocean, 
dispelling  the  morning  mist,  and  drying  the  cold, 
wet  decks  of  the  fishing-fleet.  Off  to  the  south-east 
we  sped,  crossing  the  track  of  various  coasting- 
vessels  four  or  five  miles  off  shore,  losing  sight  of 
land  a  dozen  miles  out,  and  yet  pressing  on,  till, 
after  about  four  hours'  sail,  we  were  some  twenty- 
five  miles  off  the  Cape.  Here  dwelt  the  denizens 
of  the  deep.  Majestic  among  them  all  were  the 
Finback  Whales,  a  band  of  which  were  playing 
about,  as  though  for  our  special  amusement.  Sev- 
eral times  a  great  fellow  emerged  so  close  to  us  as 
to  alarm  even  the  fisherman.  It  was  a  most  impres- 
sive sight,  as  the  water  rushed  with  thundering  roar 
from  the  great  back,  and  the  spout  of  white  spray 
accompanied  the  mighty  outbreathing — "  the  blast 
of  the  terrible  ones  .  .  V  ras  a  storm  against  the 
wall."  Great  swells  lifted  and  tossed  the  sloop,  so 
prostrating  one  of  our  number  with  the  sickness 
of  the  sea,  that  he  could  hardly  be  induced,  as 
he  lay  torpid  and  miserable  on  deck,  to  even  raise 
his  head  and  see  a  Whale  that  rose  within  fifty 
yards  of  us. 

We  all  set  to  work  with  the  lines,  and  soon 
great  flopping  Cod,  Hake  and  Haddock  were 
rapidly  filling  the  "  kids/'  or  lockers.  And  around 
us  gathered  the  feathered  wanderers  of  the  ocean 
floor.  About  six  miles  out  the  first  one  had  ap- 
peared, a  rather  large  bird  with  dark  back  and  white 
breast,  that,  with  a  peculiar  gliding  flight,  on  long, 
narrow  wings  which  it  held  slightly  decurved  at  the 

Q8 


OCEAN  WANDERERS 

intervals  of  sailing,  skimmed  low  over  the  surface 
of  the  water  in  an  irregular  course,  till  lost  to  sight. 
The  name  "  Shearwater  "  had  been  to  me  a  mere 
book-term ;  henceforth  it  was  a  reality. 

A  few  miles  further  out  we  noticed  a  flock  of 
about  twenty  birds  resting  on  the  water.  As  we 
approached,  we  saw  that  they  were  of  the  same 
sort,  except  that  one  was  of  a  dark  sooty  colour. 
The  skipper,  who  knew  their  ways,  mischievously 
steered  the  boat  just  to  windward  of  them.  The 
wind  was  then  very  light,  and  the  sail  shut  off*,  for 
the  time,  what  little  there  was,  so  that  the  birds,  as 
they  were  quite  tame  and  did  not  rise  soon  enough, 
found  themselves  unable  to  leave  the  water.  One 
of  them,  by  frantic  flapping  and  paddling,  just  man- 
aged to  clear  the  bow  of  the  craft  and  avoid  being 
run  over.  The  others  turned,  and  fluttered  off  to 
leeward,  squawking  and  wailing  in  their  terror. 
The  dark  one  was  of  the  species  called  the  "  Sooty 
Shearwater;"  the  other  kind  bears  the  specific  name 
of  "  Greater." 

Before  this  I  had  only  one  or  two  distant 
glimpses  from  steamers  at  Petrels,  or  "  Mother 
Carey's  Chickens."  Out  here  the  curious  little 
swallow-like  creatures — sooty  in  colour,  except  for 
a  white  band  on  the  rump — were  everywhere  flit- 
ting and  pattering  about.  They  fly  in  the  most 
irregular  manner,  as  though  they  had  no  special 
destination  in  view,  as  indeed  they  have  not,  care- 
less where  chance  may  lead,  if  only  it  is  to  food; 
and  it  is  surprising  how  quickly  these  ocean  wan- 
derers can  discover  the  presence  of  a  supply.  After 
we  had  fished  awhile,  the  skipper  suggested  that  we 

99 


.     .AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

throw  out  some  cod-livers,  and  see  the  birds.  Just 
then,  as  it  happened,  there  was  but  one  bird,  a 
Shearwater,  in  sight.  It  was  but  a  moment  or  two 
before  it  spied  the  mass  floating  on  the  water,  sur- 
rounded by  a  greasy  "slick,"  and,  alighting  beside 
it,  proceeded,  with  satisfied  grunts,  to  gorge  itself 
in  the  most  eager  and  gluttonous  mariner,  as  though 
afraid  that  another  might  come  to  share  the  feast. 
This  evident  anticipation  was  certainly  well  founded, 
for  in  a  moment,  as  though  out  of  space,  a  Petrel 
appeared,  then  another  Shearwater,  and  soon  there 
were  over  fifty  birds  around  us.  Perfectly  fearless, 
they  would  swim  or  fly  up,  and  almost  take  the 
liver  from  our  hands.  It  was  a  most  animated  and 
interesting  scene. 

This  first  day  gave  me  yet  another  acquaintance. 
As  we  were  nearing  the  fishing  grounds,  I  spied  a 
large  dark  bird  approaching,  higher  up  than  is  usual 
with  the  Shearwaters,  flying  more  like  a  Gull.  "A 
Jiddy-hawk,"  exclaimed  the  fisherman,  and,  seizing 
a  clam  from  the  "washer,"  he  tossed  it  over  the 
side.  The  bird  would  have  passed  us  at  some  dis- 
tance, but  no  sooner  did  it  see  the  fisherman's  move- 
ment than  it  turned,  and  swooped  down  to  the 
water,  quite  close  alongside.  Then  I  knew  that 
the  mysterious  "  Jiddy  "  was  the  Pomarine  Skua,  or 
Jaeger — of  a  tribe  that  are  a  sort  of  predatory 
adjunct  to  the  Gull  fraternity.  We  saw  but  two 
more  that  day ;  a  little  later  in  the  season  they  were 
abundant. 

Since  that  interesting  day  of  initiation,  a  num- 
ber of  years  ago,  I  have  made  many  more  trips 
thither,  and  to  other  parts  of  our  coast,  to  study 

100 


OCEAN   WANDERERS j  s< 


these  ocean  wanderers,  and  have  come  to  know 
them  quite  intimately,  as  they  are  seen  in  this  part 
of  the  world.  Yet  a  most  interesting  part  of  their 
career  is  still  buried  in  obscurity.  The  Shearwaters 
are  now  believed  to  breed  in  the  Antarctic  regions 
during  the  southern  summer,  about  January  or 
February.  Like  their  allies  the  Petrels,  they  nest 
in  burrows  in  the  ground  or  holes  in  cliffs.  After 
this  they  start  wandering,  and  where  do  they  not 
go  over  earth's  oceans  ?  They  wander  up  the 
southern  seas,  cross  the  equator,  and,  according  to 
the  fishermen,  appear  off  Nova  Scotia  and  on  the 
"  Banks "  about  the  first  of  May,  following  the 
migration  of  various  fish.  They  are  found  all  over 
the  northern  ocean  until  autumn,  when  they  gradu- 
ally withdraw,  as  cold  weather  comes  on.  The 
fishermen  rarely  or  never  see  them  in  winter,  and  I 
myself  have  seen  but  one,  a  Greater  Shearwater,  I 
took  it  to  be,  the  last  day  of  one  December,  about 
eight  miles  off  Chatham. 

The  Jaegers,  on  the  contrary,  are  raised  in 
northern  latitudes,  in  the  short  summer  of  the 
barren  arctic  solitudes.  Thence  they  begin  to  wan- 
der down  to  the  New  England  coast  in  July.  By 
August  they  become  common,  and  in  September 
and  October  they  are  abundant  in  suitable  localities 
on  the  ocean.  With  the  advent  of  winter  most  of 
them  proceed  further  south. 

Our  Petrels  are  both  northerners  and  southerners. 
There  are  two  kinds  common  on  our  coast — 
Leach's  and  Wilson's  Petrels.  The  only  perceptible 
difference  between  them  is  that  the  former  has  a 
forked  tail  and  black  webs  between  its  toes,  the  latter 

101 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

a  "  square  "  tail  and  yellow  webs.  They  are  hard 
to  distinguish  at  any  distance,  and  thus  one  might 
overlook  the  rarer,  though  very  similar,  Stormy  or 
Least  Petrel,  which  I  have  never  certainly  identified. 
Leach's  Petrel  breeds  from  the  coast  of  Maine 
northward,  while  the  other  goes  with  the  Shear- 
waters to  the  mysterious  far  south.  During  sum- 
mer, when  our  northern  Petrel  is  breeding,  it  is 
usually  the  southerner  that  we  meet  off  our  coasts. 
All  that  I  have  identified  off  Cape  Cod  at  that  sea- 
son were  of  the  latter  kind.  In  the  autumn  we  find 
both  kinds  intermingled.  As  for  winter,  it  has 
never  been  my  fortune  to  meet  any  Petrel  at  that 
season,  though  they  may  occur  further  off  shore. 

Out  of  the  very  many  trips  that  I  have  made 
into  the  haunts  of  the  ocean  wanderers,  mostly  off 
Chatham,  I  will  cull  out  some  of  the  more  note- 
worthy incidents  that  will  illustrate  the  habits  of 
these  unique  and  interesting  birds.  One  that  stands 
out  in  my  memory  was  the  second  of  August,  away 
back  in  1883,  when  I  met  for  my  first  and  only 
time  a  certain  rare  bird.  As  usual,  I  was  with  a 
fisherman  off  Chatham,  well  out  to  sea.  Among 
the  many  Shearwaters — "  Hags  "  or  "  Haglets,"  as 
the  fishermen  call  them — I  noticed  an  individual 
resembling  the  Greater  Shearwater,  but  lighter  in 
colour  in  the  back,  and  with  a  large,  conspicuous 
yellow  bill.  I  had  not  the  least  idea  what  it  was, 
and  my  naturalistic  ardour  rose  to  white  heat. 
Fortunately  there  was  a  gun  in  the  cabin.  I  made 
ready,  and  when,  at  length,  the  strange  bird  again 
flew  past,  I  tumbled  it  into  the  water.  Luffing  the 
boat  up  to  it,  I  laid  down  the  gun,  and  was  about  to 

1 02 


OCEAN   WANDERERS 

seize  my  prize,  when  there  came  a  sudden  reviving. 
Wings  were  spread,  and  away  it  went,  right  from 
under  my  very  nose.  I  felt  the  keenest  disappoint- 
ment until,  on  the  return  trip,  another  of  the 
unknown  birds  came  in  sight.  With  palpitating 
heart  I  threw  out  livers,  and  as  eagerly  did  it  accept 
the  invitation.  This  time  the  bird  was  mine,  and 
subsequent  research  identified  it  as  Corey's  Shear- 
water, which  had  been  newly  discovered  to  science 
only  a  couple  of  years  previously,  in  the  very  same 
locality.  As  far  as  I  know,  I  was  thus  the  second 
naturalist  to  secure  a  specimen.  This  is  the  nearest 
I  ever  came  to  being  the  discoverer  of  a  new  species 
of  bird.  I  saw  that  day  one  other  specimen,  and 
thought  that  all  of  them  acted  precisely  like  their 
more  familiar  relatives. 

When  I  compare  the  two  common  Shearwaters, 
I  recall  little  that  is  distinctive,  other  than  their 
colour.  The  Sooty  fellow  seems  a  little  the  heavier 
built,  but  this  does  not  appear  to  affect  its  flight.  I 
love  to  watch  either  of  them  fly.  On  a  windy  day 
when,  away  out  there  on  the  boundless  deep,  the 
swells  are  assuming  almost  alarming  proportions, 
and  the  advancing  wall  of  water  menaces  the  little 
white-winged  sailing-craft  that  lies  deep  down  in 
the  hollow,  the  Shearwaters  are  in  their  element. 
With  quick  beatings  of  wing  they  dash  past  in  the 
teeth  of  the  breeze,  dirigible  flying-machines  that 
they  are.  Now  they  set  their  wings,  fully  extended 
and  slightly  depressed,  and  scale  along  the  trough 
of  the  sea,  the  tips  oY  the  wings  almost  touching 
the  water.  Then  they  turn,  and  shoot  up  over  the 
breaking  crest  of  the  wave,  the  blast  turning  them 

103 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

to  one  side,  and  away  they  go  across  the  white- 
capped  ranges  of  ocean  mountains.  Wild  things 
they  are,  living  that  roving  life  on  the  unquiet 
ocean,  knowing  for  months  no  real  resting  place. 
How  can  they  rest  amid  the  breaking  seas  ?  Who 
knows,  when  the  gales  blow  for  days  at  a  time, 
whether  they  remain  all  that  time,  day  and  night, 
upon  wing,  or  settle  momentarily  on  the  agitated 
water,  till  a  breaking  surge  soon  forces  them  awing  ? 
And  how  fare  the  seemingly  puny  little  Petrels,  so 
slight  of  form  that  they  appear  like  little  dark 
butterflies  or  tufts  of  down,  driven  by  every  blast  ? 
At  times  the  storms  are  indeed  more  than  they 
can  bear.  I  have  seen  dead  bodies  of  Shearwaters 
on  the  ocean  beach,  and  once  I  was  witness  to  the 
close  of  the  wandering  career  of  a  Leach's  Petrel. 
It  was  during  the  raging  of  an  October  hurricane 
from  the  northeast,  when,  impressed  by  the  sublimity 
of  the  forces  that  were  uprooting  trees  and  multi- 
plying destruction  upon  the  land,  I  took  the  train 
to  Sandwich,  on  Cape  Cod,  that  I  might  witness 
the  effect  of  the  storm  upon  the  ocean.  Those 
who  have  been  by  the  sea  at  such  a  time  can  realize 
much  that  I  witnessed.  It  was  well  worth  braving 
the  beating  rain  and  the  furious  wind  to  see  the 
surges  thunder  in  upon  the  sand,  the  white,  seething 
cauldron  of  the  ocean,  and  the  hordes  of  water-fowl, 
mostly  sea-ducks  of  various  sorts,  thousands  upon 
thousands  of  them,  that  were  passing,  some  skim- 
ming low  over  the  waves,  others  blown  in  over  the 
beach.  Strong  of  wing,  the  gale  but  helped  them 
on  their  southward  course, — yet  not  all.  As  I  stood 
on  the  sand,  I  noticed  a  flutter  of  wings  amid  an 

104 


OCEAN  WANDERERS 

advancing  wave.  Something  was  cast  struggling 
ashore,  helpless  before  each  succeeding  wave  that 
worried  it  as  a  wild  beast  its  prey.  When  I  reached 
the  spot,  I  picked  up  a  Leach's  Petrel.  Poor  thing, 
it  was  bedraggled  with  water  and  with  its  own  oil, 
and  evidently  near  the  bourne  of  life.  The  kindest 
thing  I  could  do  was  to  put  my  heel  on  it  and  end 
its  sufferings.  I  wondered  if  this  were  not  one  of 
innumerable  like  cases,  where  the  bird  tires  of  being 
kept  awing  by  the  raging  of  the  elements,  and  falls, 
at  length,  exhausted,  into  the  vortex  of  destruction. 

The  movements  of  these  birds  depend  largely 
upon  the  supply  of  food,  which  consists  of  small 
fish  and  all  sorts  of  minute  marine  creatures.  They 
love  to  congregate  where  whales  are  found,  to  pick 
up  any  leavings  and  secure  their  share  of  the  small 
bait-fish  that  the  monsters  pursue.  Shearwaters 
and  Petrels  are  redolent  with  oil.  When  handled 
they  squirt  out  a  yellowish  oil  from  the  nostrils. 
When  the  whales  are  about,  the  water  has  some- 
times, in  calm  weather,  seemed  to  me  noticeably 
greasy,  and  I  was  tempted  to  imagine  that  the 
Petrels,  that  were  everywhere  pattering  about,  were 
engaged  in  skimming  from  the  water  choice  and 
nutritious  whale-oil !  The  birds  are  scavengers  in 
part,  but  one  wonders  what  they  find  to  eat,  as  there 
is  so  little  on  the  ocean  surface  visible  to  the  human 
eye.  The  fact  is,  however,  that  the  upper  stratum 
of  the  ocean  teems  with  life. 

One  is  never  sure  of  finding  them  abundant  in 
any  one  locality,  even  on  successive  days.  Now 
and  then  I  have  seen  numbers  of  them  just  off 
Chatham  Bars,  but  usually  they  are  not  common 

105 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

much  in-shore  from  "  the  Crab  Ledge,"  a  fishing 
ground  about  eight  miles  from  land.  And  then, 
again,  they  are  away  off  on  "  Rocky  Ground," 
twenty  miles  or  more  off  shore.  Still,  it  is  won- 
derful, when  vision  and  other  resources  fail  to  place 
them,  to  try  the  judicious  use  of  cod-liver.  Again 
and  again,  when  not  a  bird  was  in  sight,  and  I  was 
satisfied  that  they  had  gone  off  shore,  as  the  boat 
sailed  along  I  have  tossed  out  now  and  then  a  piece 
of  liver,  squeezed  into  fragments.  In  the  course  of 
some  ten  minutes,  a  Petrel  would  be  seen,  hovering 
far  astern,  feasting  greedily.  Soon  the  supply  was 
garnered,  and  the  "  Mother  Carey's  "  followed  up 
the  wake  of  the  boat.  No  matter  how  fast  we 
sailed,  the  ever  hungry  bird  soon  caught  up  and 
flitted  close  about,  as  though  begging  for  more. 
Not  only  one,  but  another  and  another,  a  Haglet,  a 
Skua,  and  before  long  we  had  the  usual  company. 
I  would  not  assert  that  by  the  chemical  union  of 
cod-liver  and  oxygen  Shearwaters  are  produced,  and 
from  liver  and  hydrogen  Petrels,  though  at  times  it 
almost  seems  so.  Try  it  and  see  !  Yet  I  should 
advise  one  not  to  expect  too  much,  unless  there  is  a 
likelihood  that  there  is  at  least  one  Petrel  within  a 
few  miles.  The  solution  is,  I  take  it,  the  acuteness 
of  their  vision  that  enables  them  to  see  others  hover- 
ing and  feeding  at  a  far  greater  distance  than  we 
could  descry  them. 

These  ocean  birds  seem  to  have  some  power  of 
observation  as  to  the  weather.  Fishermen  had  told 
me  that  Petrels  flock  before  a  storm,  but  it  was  long 
before  I  observed  it  for  myself.  At  length,  one 
afternoon  in  August,  we  were  sailing  in  from  the 

1 06 


OCEAN  WANDERERS 

"Rocky  Grounds/'  when  a  thunder  squall  began  to 
roll  up  from  the  westward.  The  clouds  grew  very 
dark,  the  air  was  quite  still,  and  lightning-flashes 
appeared  shoreward.  Just  then  we  sailed  by  a  flock 
of  Petrels,  closely  grouped  upon  the  water.  There 
must  have  been  over  a  hundred  of  them,  and  others 
kept  arriving,  alighting  in  their  midst.  Though  at 
rest  on  the  water,  they  kept  up  a  constant  fluttering 
or  trembling  of  the  wings,  and  emitted  low,  twit- 
tering notes.  They  certainly  seemed  ill  at  ease,  and 
I  do  not  doubt  that  the  approach  of  the  storm  had 
this  effect  upon  them,  as  the  skipper  said  it  was  a 
common  habit  at  such  times.  Poor  little  things, 
this  was  all  the  refuge  they  knew  how  to  take,  the 
solace  of  companionship  at  a  time  of  possible  danger. 
Petrels  are  thus  named  from  their  seeming 
ability,  like  Peter  of  old,  to  walk  on  the  water. 
In  reality  this  is  only  done  in  appearance,  for, 
though  they  patter  over  the  surface  with  their  long, 
slender,  black  legs  and  little  webbed  feet,  the  wings 
are  kept  constantly  in  motion,  and  it  is  these  that 
really  support  them. 


The  time  came  when  photography  was  made 
an  adjunct  to  bird-study,  and  one  August  day  the 
camera  and  I  made  our  first  joint  trip  out  over 
Chatham  Bars.  This  summer  the  fish  were  school- 
ing well  in-shore  on  the  "  Crab  Ledge,"  so  we  did 
not  have  to  start  till  half-past  five.  In  a  couple  of 
hours  we  were  on  the  fishing-grounds,  the  day 
partly  cloudy,  and  the  wind  light  from  the  south- 
east. Birds  seemed  unusually  scarce.  Except  for 

107 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

some  Terns  near  land,  I  did  not  see  a  single  one  till 
we  had  been  fishing  half  an  hour.  Then  one 
Greater  Shearwater  came  flying  around  after  some- 
thing to  eat,  and  presently  a  Wilson's  Petrel.  This 
made  me  realize  that  we  might  yet  have  company, 
so  I  cut  out  some  livers  and  threw  them,  piece-meal, 


"  PRESENTLY    I    HAD    A    PAIR    OF    GREATER  SHEARWATERS    BOBBING 
AROUND    THE    BOAT,    GULPING    DOWN    LIVER    GREEDILY." 

astern,  the  strong  tide  carrying  them  swiftly  to 
leeward.  The  old  method  worked  like  a  charm. 
Presently  I  had  a  pair  of  Greater  Shearwaters  bob- 
bing  around  the  boat,  gulping  down  liver  greedily, 
and  quite  a  number  of  Petrels  pattering  and  flutter- 
ing about.  Still  they  came,  more  Petrels  and 
Shearwaters,  then  several  Sooty  Shearwaters  and  a 

1 08 


109 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

few  Pomarine  Jaegers.  The  latter  were  shyer  than 
the  others,  remaining,  for  the  most  part,  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  group,  though  now  and  then 
venturing  nearer  for  some  specially  tempting  morsel. 
In  half  an  hour  we  had  a  hundred  birds  close 
around  us.  The  "  Haglets"  and  "  Mother  Carey's" 
were  exceedingly  tame.  They  would  come  right 
up  to  the  side  of  the  boat  to  secure  a  piece  of  liver, 
and  once  I  actually  caught  a  Petrel  alive  by  giving 
it  a  little  poke  with  a  gaff,  seizing  it  before  it  could 
again  get  awing.  I  nearly  induced  a  pair  of  Shear- 
waters to  eat  out  of  my  hands.  They  would  swim 
up,  extend  their  bills  within  a  foot  of  the  liver,  and 
gaze  at  it  as  wistfully  as  a  dog  does  at  a  bone.  As 
soon  as  I  dropped  it,  they  would  pounce  upon  it, 
extending  their  wings  and  uttering  peculiar  grunts 
and  wailing  sounds. 

And  here  is  how  I  got  my  photographs.  I 
made  ready  the  camera  for  an  instantaneous  ex- 
posure, and,  by  the  focusing-scale,  set  the  lens  for 
what  I  guessed  would  be  the  proper  distance. 
Then  I  enticed  the  birds  as  near  the  boat  as  possible 
by  throwing  out  liver  close  alongside.  With  greasy 
hands  I  caught  up  the  camera,  made  a  final  guess  at 
the  focus,  and  snapped  at  the  birds  before  they  were 
off.  A  Reflex  camera  would  have  been  far  better 
for  this  work,  but  I  had  to  make  the  best  of  the 
apparatus  at  hand. 

Sometimes  I  threw  out  a  whole  handful  of  liver 
a  little  farther  from  the  boat,  and  instantly  there 
would  be  a  frantic  scramble  for  it  of  all  the  birds 
nearest.  The  Shearwaters  seemed  particularly  quar- 
relsome, and  how  they  would  fight  for  that  liver, 

no 


Ill 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

squealing  and  biting  at  one  another  with  every 
possible  exhibition  of  passion.  If  the  liver  is  car- 
ried under  by  the  tide,  several  birds  at  once  dive 
after  it,  and,  emerging  amid  the  excited  crowd,  will 
bear  up  on  their  backs  others  that  happen  to  be 
over  them, — as  is  shown  in  the  illustration.  While 
resting  on  the  water,  they  often  extend  their  wings, 
perhaps  in  readiness  to  flutter  and  paddle  after  the 
food  they  are  expecting  to  be  thrown  out.  It  is 
rather  hard  work  for  them  to  start  in  flight,  unless 
there  is  a  good  breeze,  and  they  have  to  run  patter- 
ing with  their  feet  over  the  water  for  some  distance 
before  they  are  fully  awing. 

The  fishermen  had  told  me  that  the  Haglets  are 
readily  caught  with  hook  and  line,  and  I  now  tried 
the  experiment.  Baiting  a  small  hook  on  a  light 
line,  I  tossed  it  over.  A  Shearwater  immediately 
pounced  down,  dove  after  the  sinking  hook,  and 
cleverly  bit  off  the  bait.  I  tried  again  with  a 
larger  piece,  but  jerked  it  out  of  the  bird's  mouth. 
Next  time  I  waited  until  the  thing  was  half  swal- 
lowed, and  then  slowly  drew  the  line  taut.  The 
hook  caught  in  the  bill,  and,  despite  frantic  flapping 
and  bracing  the  feet  against  the  water,  I  drew  the 
victim,  a  Greater  Shearwater,  into  the  boat.  No 
sooner  was  the  line  slacked  than  the  hook  dropped 
out,  having  held  only  slightly  in  the  horny  part  of 
the  mouth,  not  injuring  the  bird  in  the  least. 

Finding  that  the  bird  could  not  rise  from  a 
hard  surface,  I  gave  it  the  freedom  of  the  deck.  It 
ran  into  a  corner,  and  squealed  and  bit  when  I 
attempted  to  handle  it.  It  was  awkward  in  gait, 
and  now  and  then  would  fall  down,  evidently  being 

112 


OCEAN   WANDERERS 

rather  out  of  practice  in  pedestrianism.  In  the 
same  way  several  more  were  captured.  When  re- 
leased, at  length,  by  being  thrown  into  the  air,  they 
went  scaling  off  over  the  ocean.  I  could  not  tell 
whether  or  not  the  same  individuals  returned  to  the 
feast,  as  they  were  soon  lost  among  the  many  that 
were  flying  about. 

The  skipper  said  that  out  on  the  Banks  the  fisher- 
men catch  the  Haglets  and  put  several  of  them 
together  in  a  barrel  to  get  them  fighting.  Each 
seems  to  consider  the  others  its  enemies,  and  they 
will  all  set  to  screaming  and  tearing  at  one  another 
in  the  most  desperate  fashion.  From  the  accounts 
of  this  Hag-baiting  I  should  judge  that  Game-cocks 
and  Kilkenny  Cats  had  at  least  their  equals  in  these 
marine  fighters.  I  could  not  quite  bring  myself  to 
experiment  with  this  cruelty,  contenting  myself 
with  the  description,  that  the  traits  of  these  birds 
here  observed  made  entirely  credible. 

It  was  much  more  difficult  to  photograph  the 
Petrels  than  the  Shearwaters.  They  moved  so 
quickly  that  it  was  hard  to  get  the  camera  focused 
and  aimed  at  short  range  before  they  were  off,  and, 
even  when  I  did,  the  motion  of  their  wings  was  so 
rapid  that  it  required  more  speed  than  that  of  an 
ordinary  shutter.  To-day,  however,  with  the  new 
Reflex  camera  or  the  focusing  finder,  these  diffi- 
culties have  been  greatly  lessened. 


Once  out  on  the  fishing-grounds,  aside  from  the 
vicissitudes  of  the  elements,  there  is  always  the 
delightful  uncertainty  as  to  what  a  day  may  bring 


§  B 


114 


OCEAN   WANDERERS 

forth.  As  at  our  "  Expositions,"  different  classes  or 
nationalities  have  their  "  day/'  so  off  on  the  sea, 
perhaps  for  purposes  of  exposition  to  the  ornithol- 
ogist kindly  furnished  by  Providence,  different  kinds 
of  birds  have  theirs.  Usually  the  Greater  Shear- 
water is  the  abundant  "  Haglet,"  outnumbering 
their  dark-hued  relative  twenty  to  one.  But  now 
and  then  comes  a  "  Sooty  day/'  when  the  order  is 
almost  reversed,  though  the  disproportion  is  seldom 
as  great.  Perhaps  there  is  a  "  colour-line  "  among 
the  Shearwaters,  so  that  when  the  "coloured"  Hags 
in  large  numbers  invade  the  "  Crab  Ledge,"  most 
of  the  lighter-coloured  aristocrats  manage  to  find 
more  congenial  marine  pastures  elsewhere.  At 
times  in  August  we  are  treated  to  a  "  Phalarope 
day,"  when  rafts  of  these  dainty  little  creatures  dot 
the  water  far  off  shore. 

But,  of  all  these  special  occasions,  I  know  none 
more  entertaining  than  "Jaeger  day"  at  this  great 
marine  exposition  of  Nature.  One  such  that  I 
shall  ever  remember  was  the  26th  of  August, 
four  years  ago.  Long  before  we  reached  "  Crab 
Ledge  "  I  knew  it  was  "  Jaeger  day,"  for  the  great 
dark  fellows  were  everywhere  about,  chasing  the 
Terns  and  Bonaparte's  Gulls  in  their  savage  fashion. 
And  what  a  strange  fashion  it  is  !  If  a  Tern  or 
small  Gull  happens  near  a  Jaeger,  there  is  almost 
certainly  trouble  in  store.  The  latter  gives  chase. 
The  pursued  makes  every  effort  co  escape.  But  the 
Jaeger, — well  named  he  is,  "  hunter," — is  the  better 
flier.  With  savage  swoops,  he  strikes  his  little 
white  cousin  from  this  direction  and  from  that. 
Mounting  in  the  air  is  of  no  avail.  So  at  last,  in 


< 


OCEAN  WANDERERS 

fear  and  despair,  the  Gull  or  Tern  does  what  it 
knows  the  robber  wants,  disgorges  the  hard-earned 
contents  of  its  crop, — a  choice  fish,  or  a  mass  of 
half-digested  matter.  No  further  use,  at  present, 
has  the  pirate  now  for  his  victim.  Poising  for  an 
instant,  he  swoops  down  after  the  meteoric  shower 
of  food,  usually  catching  it  before  it  reaches  the 
water.  If  not,  he  alights,  gathers  it  in,  and  then 
kites  away  in  search  of  another  swallow  of  the  sea, 
on  which  to  pour  the  vials  of  his  wrath.  There 
are  so  many  more  of  the  hunted  than  of  the  hunt- 
ing, that  the  former  might  easily  combine  and  mob 
the  marauder,  did  they  but  know  their  real  power. 
We  saw  this  process  repeated  until  we  were  too 
far  off  shore  for  Terns  to  be  often  found.  But  the 
Jaegers  do  not  depend  upon  Terns  ;  they  can  forage 
for  themselves,  and,  in  fact,  they  do  it  for  the  most 
part.  On  the  fishing-grounds  I  was  delighted  to 
find  them  as  abundant  as  Shearwaters,  or  even  more 
so.  They  hung  about  us  all  day  in  large  numbers, 
and  partook  of  the  liver  that  I  threw  out  to  them. 
Despite  all  my  efforts,  I  could  not  get  one  near 
enough  for  a  satisfactory  picture.  Perhaps  I  might 
have  done  so,  but  for  the  tamer  Shearwaters,  that 
were  always  the  first  to  gobble  up  any  bait  near  the 
boat,  before  the  Jaeger,  hovering  off  in  distrust, 
could  make  up  his  mind  to  venture.  This  time  we 
had  towed  out  a  little  skiff,  and,  as  it  was  quite 
calm,  I  rowed  off  in  it  from  the  vessel,  hoping  that 
in  this  way  I  might  approach  them.  The  Petrels 
came  up  very  close,  but  the  Jaegers,  though  they 
flew  rather  low  over  my  head,  would  not  come 
down  near,  where  I  wanted  them. 

117 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

The  specially  interesting  feature  of  this  influx 
of  Jaegers  was  the  variety  of  their  plumages.  It 
seemed  as  though  there  were  no  two  individuals 
alike.  This  was  not  altogether  a  surprise  to  me,  as 
the  fishermen  the  day  before  had  told  me  that  there 
was  an  unusual  flight  of  "  Jiddies."  The  Pomarine 
Jaeger,  the  largest  species,  is  here  usually  the  com- 
monest, and  was  certainly  so  on  the  present  occasion. 
A  smaller  species,  the  Parasitic  Jaeger,  was  about 
half  as  numerous.  I  did  not  see  any  of  the  Long- 
Tailed  Jaeger,  which,  according  to  my  experience, 
is  far  scarcer  than  these  two,  only  scattering  ones 
appearing  now  and  then. 

Each  of  these  species  is  found  to  assume  a 
number  of  types  of  plumage,  and  even  experts  are 
considerably  at  sea  regarding  their  sequence.  As 
the  birds  now  flew  about  the  boat,  some  had  long 
tails,  some  short  ones;  some  had  white  breasts, 
others  dark  ;  some  were  in  light  plumage,  some  in 
a  phase  of  a  sooty  color ;  some  were  marked,  others 
plain;  some  were  barred,  others  speckled,  and  so 
on,  this  being  true  of  both  kinds.  There  is  a  great 
deal  here  to  learn.  I  would  suggest  that  some 
competent  naturalut  go  out  there  with  the  fisher- 
men, catch  a  number  of  Jaegers,  and  watch  their 
feather-changes  in  captivity.  Such  an  experiment 
would  furnish  a  very  instructive  chapter  in  orni- 
thology, could  it  be  carried  out. 


Better  in  some  respects  than  the  waters  of  Cape 
Cod  for  observing  the  habits  of  the  Ocean  Wan- 
derers and  other  water-birds  are  those  off  Cape 

118 


OCEAN   WANDERERS 

Sable,  Nova  Scotia.  Though  more  difficult  of 
access,  there  is  no  harbour-bar  to  cross.  Perhaps  the 
Shearwaters  keep  off-shore,  for  I  have  not  found  as 
many  of  them  there  as  at  Chatham  ;  but  it  is  a  fine 
place  for  the  Jaegers.  The  fishing-boats  there  are 
mostly  poor,  frail  craft,  such  as  no  Chatham  fisher- 
man would  tolerate,  yet  their  owners  venture  in 
them  well  off  the  land.  During  September  and 
October  the  Jaegers  become  specially  abundant, 
congregating  in  localities  on  the  ocean  where  the 
bait-fish  are  plenty.  Late  one  September  I  made  a 
vigorous  effort  to  see  these  birds  at  their  best,  and  sailed 
out  early  one  morning,  with  two  fishermen,  to  the 
cod-grounds.  Pomarine  and  Parasitic  Jaegers  were 
fairly  common,  but  the  wind  soon  breezed  up  so  that, 
in  the  crank  little  boat,  the  fishermen  were  afraid 
for  their  lives,  and  put  back  to  land.  It  was  a  fine 
sight  to  see  the  powerful  birds,  exulting  in  their 
strength,  patrol  the  tossing  ocean  and  exact  from 
it  tribute. 

The  next  day  was  cloudy,  with  a  good  breeze, 
the  last  of  my  stay.  I  hired  a  larger  and  better 
boat,  and  put  to  sea  after  the  Jaegers.  We  saw  a 
few  flying  to  the  southward,  but,  though  we  sailed 
well  out  to  sea,  and  up  and  down  the  coast,  we 
failed  to  reach  their  real  haunts.  When  farthest  to 
the  southward,  we  noticed  the  masts  of  a  fishing-fleet 
in  the  distance.  And  when  at  night  this  fleet  made 
port  for  shelter  from  the  approaching  storm,  and 
one  of  the  men  told  me  what  he  had  seen  that  day, 
I  felt  angry  with  myself  for  my  obtuseness.  The 
fleet  of  schooners  were  bunched  together  on  a  shoal 
twelve  miles  southeast  of  Cape  Sable,  catching  and 

119 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

dressing  fish.  Around  them,  feasting  on  the  refuse, 
were  literally  thousands  of  Jaegers,  or  -  Sea-Hens/' 
as  he  called  them.  They  kept  coming  from  all 
directions  throughout  the  day, — of  all  sorts  and 
sizes.  What  a  sight  it  must  have  been !  The  few 
birds  flying  towards  the  fleet  would  be  suggestion 
enough  now  as  to  where  to  go.  But  it  was  too  late 
for  after-thoughts.  Next  day,  with  the  first  snow 
in  the  air,  and  a  furious,  biting  north  wind,  I  said 
farewell  to  the  haunts  of  the  Jaegers. 

There  is  another  class  of  birds  that,  during  their 
stay  with  us,  at  any  rate,  deserve  to  be  included 
among  the  Ocean  Wanderers, — the  little  Phalaropes. 
They  are  classed  among  the  wading-birds,  and 
resemble  closely  small  Sandpipers ;  but  in  their 
habits  they  are  quite  unique.  In  their  marital  ways 
they  are  said  to  reverse  the  ordinary  course  of 
Nature,  the  females  doing  the  courting,  and  the 
males  attending  to  the  household  duties,  such  as 
incubation.  One  species,  the  Wilson's,  of  which  I 
shall  tell  in  another  chapter,  breeds  on  the  western 
prairies.  Two  others,  the  Northern  and  the  Red 
Phalaropes,  breed  in  the  far  north,  and  occur  along 
the  Atlantic  coast  in  spring  and  fall  as  migrants. 
Away  out  at  sea,  often  far  out  of  sight  of  land,  we 
find  them  at  these  seasons  in  flocks  flying  about 
with  twittering  notes,  just  like  flocks  of  Sandpipers, 
but  alighting  on  the  water  like  genuine  water-fowl. 
They  show  better  their  "  wadership "  when  they 
meet  with  areas  of  drift-weed,  and,  settling  down 
upon  it  in  large  numbers,  run  nimbly  about,  seeking 
their  food,  of  small  marine  creatures. 

Off  Cape   Cod   I   have  been  accustomed  to  see 

120 


OCEAN   WANDERERS 

occasional  flocks  of  Phalaropes,  or  "  Whale-birds," 
as  the  fishermen  there  call  them,  during  August. 
Once,  in  the  middle  of  June,  I  met  a  flock  of 
twenty  Northern  Phalaropes  just  off  Matinicus 
Rock.  But  I  never  had  any  conception  of  the 
abundance  of  these  pretty  birds  in  their  migrations 
until  one  August,  off  Cape  Sable.  The  fishermen 
told  me  that  Hags,  Sea-Hens  and  Mother  Carey's 
Chickens  were  less  plentiful  than  usual  that  season, 
having  followed  the  fish  elsewhere,  but  there  were 
"  millions  of  '  Sea-Geese/  '  From  their  description 
I  knew  that  these  latter  were  Phalaropes,  and  I  took 
an  early  opportunity  to  pay  them  a  visit. 

I  was  fortunate  in  securing  passage  on  a  sub- 
stantial little  eleven-ton  schooner,  .  manned  by  a 
father  and  two  or  three  stout  sons.  It  was  a  nice 
day  with  a  light  breeze,  most  favourable  for  the 
work  in  hand.  We  glided  from  the  sandy  cove 
with  its  wharf  and  fish-houses,  and  by  the  time  that 
the  white  beaches  and  green  spruce-tracts  were 
becoming  dim  in  the  distance,  seeming  to  slide  away 
from  us,  rather  than  we  from  them,  we  were  in  the 
haunts  of  the  Phalaropes.  Flocks  of  them  began  to 
fly  by,  and  then  we  passed  flocks  in  the  water,  some- 
times quietly  dressing  their  beautifully  smooth 
plumage,  or  splashing  and  frolicking  on  the  smooth 
ocean  surface.  Every  bunch  or  patch  of  drift-weed 
supported  all  the  Phalaropes  it  would  hold. 

We  began  our  fishing  when  the  land  was  but 
dimly  in  sight.  All  around  us  the  Phalaropes  were 
flying  and  sporting,  always  in  flocks  of  half  a  dozen 
or  more.  Each  tiny  bird,  when  at  rest,  rode  lightly 
and  gracefully  upon  the  water,  and  I  was  reminded 

121 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

of  squadrons  of  miniature  ships  riding  at  anchor  in 
some  harbour.  At  length  I  gave  up  fishing,  and 
rowed  off  from  the  vessel  in  the  heavy  keel  tender, 
right  among  the  birds  that  would  hardly  get  out  of 
my  way,  so  tame  were  they.  I  think  I  had  not 
realized  how  many  there  were  till  I  came  to  an 
almost  solid  mass  of  them  that  covered  acres  of 
water.  It  seemed  that  such  a  flock  would  certainly 
be  shy.  Not  so ;  as  I  rowed  toward  them  they 
hardly  deigned  to  notice  me,  and  when  I  was  very 
close,  instead  of  flying,  they  merely  swam  to  one 
side,  opening  up  a  sort  of  lane  through  their  ranks, 
through  which  I  rowed,  after  which  they  simply 
closed  up  again. 

Being  so  near  them,  I  was  able  to  learn  accur- 
ately what  species  were  represented  in  this  host. 
Nearly  all  proved  to  be  the  Northern  Phalarope, 
the  smallest  kind,  but  there  were  a  few  of  the  Red 
Phalarope, — a  slightly  larger  and  plumper  bird, — 
scattered  through  their  ranks.  Some  of  these  had 
still  a  few  ruddy  feathers  in  the  breast,  the  last 
remnants  of  the  summer  plumage ;  but  most  of 
them  were  now  white-breasted,  and  bluish  gray  on 
the  back.  At  a  distance  it  was  not  easy  to  dis- 
tinguish the  two  kinds  apart  by  colour  alone.  The 
fishermen  had  told  me  that  for  the  last  two  weeks 
they  had  not  seen  any  more  of  the  red-breasted 
ones.  They  did  not  know  that  this  was  simply  due 
to  the  moult,  and  that  the  birds  were  really  there 
all  the  time. 

So  much  interested  was  I  in  the  Phalaropes  that 
I  failed  to  observe  the  approach  of  a  Nova  Scotia 
fog.  The  first  thing  I  knew  I  had  lost  the  vessel. 

122 


OCEAN  WANDERERS 

At  length  I  saw  through  the  haze  what  I  took  to 
be  the  right  one.  After  a  short  row  against  the 
tide  and  an  increasing  wind,  just  as  I  was  almost 
within  hail  it  squared  away  and  left  me.  Then  I 
took  another  course,  and,  after  nearly  an  hour's 
futile  effort,  had  begun  to  wonder  what  my  chances 
were  of  being  able  to  row  that  heavy  craft  against 
the  wind  to  the  distant  invisible  shore,  without  food 
or  water,  when  the  familiar  schooner  loomed  up 
not  far  away,  and  I  was  far  from  sorry  to  set  foot 
again  upon  her  ancient  and  slimy  deck.  Though  I 
had  a  camera  with  me  on  this  trip,  it  was  before 
the  days  when  I  realized  its  value  as  an  adjunct  to 
bird-study.  I  would  give  a  good  deal  now  to  be 
off  there  again  among  that  assemblage  of  birds, 
properly  equipped. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  fog  was  very  dense 
on  shore,  and  I  found  quite  a  few  of  the  Phalaropes, 
in  small  groups,  on  the  marshes,  feeding  like  the 
other  numerous  waders,  at  the  edges  of  the  pools. 
They  were  gone,  though,  as  soon  as  the  fog  lifted. 
The  fishermen  .say  that  this  is  about  the  only 
occasion  when  they  ordinarily  come  to  land.  One 
morning,  early  in  this  same  August,  before  I  had 
arrived,  the  fog  was  especially  dense,  and  at  day- 
break they  encountered  very  large  numbers  of  the 
little  things  on  the  flats,  as  they  were  starting  for  the 
day's  fishing.  The  birds  departed  as  soon  as  it  was 
fairly  light.  Occasionally  great  numbers  of  Phal- 
aropes are  reported  on  the  New  England  coast,  but 
I  have  been  off  there  hundreds  of  times,  in  various 
years,  only  to  see  comparatively  small,  scattering 
flocks.  Hence  I  incline  to  the  opinion  that,  in  the 

123 


AMONG  THE  WATER-FOWL 

fall  flight,  like  the  Golden  Plover,  most  of  the 
Phalaropes,  after  leaving  Nova  Scotia,  pass  so  far  off 
the  coast  that  we  seldom  encounter  the  main  body 
of  the  migration. 


The  only  species  described  in  this  chapter  with 
whose  breeding  habits  I  am,  or  am  likely  to  be, 
familiar,  is  Leach's  Petrel.  The  nesting  of  most 
Shearwaters  is  practically  unknown  to  science,  and 
upon  that  of  the  Jaegers,  except  in  northern 
Europe,  only  arctic  explorers  can  enlighten  us. 
But  many  of  the  islands  off  Maine  and  Nova 
Scotia  have  been  adopted  by  multitudes  of  Leach's 
Petrel  as  their  summer  home.  At  different  times, 
from  Matinicus  to  the  Magdalen  Islands,  I  have 
examined  their  rat-like  burrows.  Seal  Island,  off 
southern  Nova  Scotia,  is  a  wonderful  Petrel-resort. 
There  I  have  noticed  a  variation  on  their  usual 
habit,  in  that  they  enter  the  spruce  woods,  and  dig 
their  burrows  under  the  roots  of  the  trees.  It  is 
about  the  last  place  in  the  world  that  one  would 
naturally  search  for  a  bird  that  loves  a  free,  wander- 
ing life  over  the  billows, — a  damp,  dark  hole  under- 
ground, and  in  the  midst  of  a  forest.  But  these 
extremes  in  habits  make  bird-study  all  the  more 
fascinating. 

A  more  typical  breeding-place  is  some  such  spot 
as  another  Seal  Island, — this  one  off  the  coast  of 
Maine.  I  was,  with  a  friend,  at  Matinicus  Island. 
Learning  of  this  remarkable  resort  of  the  Petrels, 
only  seven  miles  away,  we  engaged  a  schooner  to 
carry  us  there,  leave  us  for  the  day,  and  take  us  off 

124 


OCEAN  WANDERERS 

at  night.  It  was  Bunker  Hill  Day,  splendid 
weather,  and  a  fine,  fair  breeze.  We  got  an  early 
start,  and  in  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  sailing 
"  wing-a-wing,"  we  were  off  the  island,  a  grim- 
looking  rock,  covered  with  green-sward  on  top,  a 
good  half-mile  long,  and  rather  narrow.  One  of 
the  crew  rowed  us  ashore  on  the  less  precipitous 
western  side.  Even  there  it  was  not  much  sheltered, 
as  the  mainland  was  twenty  miles  away,  and  even  in 
calm  weather  the  sea  broke  not  a  little  on  the  rocks. 
However,  watching  our  chance,  we  managed  to 
scramble  out  on  a  shelving  ledge,  immediately  after 
which  the  retreating  wave  carried  back  the  boat. 
The  schooner  departed  for  the  fishing  ground,  while 
we  scrambled  up  the  rocks  and  bank  to  the  summit 
of  the  island. 

No  sooner  had  we  reached  the  turf  than  I 
noticed  a  little  burrow,  and  my  friend  at  the  same 
moment  another,  and  there  they  were  all  around  us. 
Selecting  one,  I  pulled  up  the  sod  with  my  hands. 
The  hole  did  not  go  straight  down,  but  ran  along 
iust  below  the  roots  of  the  grass,  for  about  a  couple 
of  feet.  Then  it  broadened  out  into  a  sort  of 
pocket,  in  which,  on  a  slight  lining  of  grass  and 
feathers,  sat  a  Leach's  Petrel  on  a  single  white  egg. 
The  bird  seemed  dazed  by  the  sudden  glare  of  day, 
and  did  not  make  any  effort  to  escape.  When  I 
took  hold  of  it,  it  made  just  the  least  bit  of  a 
struggle,  and  squirted  out  from  its  nostrils  on  my 
hands  a  few  drops  of  yellowish  oil  that  gave  forth  a 
peculiar,  disagreeable  odor.  When  I  opened  my 
hand,  it  did  not  make  any  attempt  to  fly  off*. 
When  placed  on  the  ground,  it  merely  squatted,  but 

125 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

presently  arose  to  a  crouching  attitude,  and  ran  back 
into  what  was  left  of  the  hole.  Then  I  gave  it  a 
toss  into  the  air,  and,  after  a  little  zigzag  meander- 
ing over  the  grass  and  rocks,  it  seemed  to  get  its 
bearings,  flew  down  in  its  usual  irregular  manner  to 
the  water,  and  disappeared  off  to  sea,  without  show- 
ing any  inclination  to  return  to  the  nest,  nor  did  it, 
that  we  could  see,  during  the  day. 

We  dug  out  a  number  of  other  burrows  till  we 
had  seen  enough  to  generalize  the  observations  a 
little.  We  did  not  find  more  than  one  egg  in  any 
nest,  and  I  do  not  know  that  any  such  instance  has 
ever  been  recorded.  Sometimes  there  were  two 
birds  in  a  burrow,  but  in  these  cases  the  egg  had 
not  been  laid.  Two  birds  that  I  took  in  the  act  of 
incubation  from  different  nests  and  kept  as  speci- 
mens proved  to  be  males.  Some  observers  have 
thought  that  the  male  usually  incubates,  but  others 
are  said  to  have  found  birds  of  either  sex  indiffer- 
ently thus  engaged. 

The  puzzle  is  what  becomes  of  the  other 
partner.  Practically  never  is  a  Petrel  to  be  seen  by 
day  about  the  breeding-grounds.  At  night,  how- 
ever, the  Petrels  become  active  and  noisy,  twittering 
constantly,  and  flying  to  and  fro  from  the  sea.  We 
cannot  assume  that  the  other  is  in  some  hole 
near  by,  for  all  the  birds  found  are  incubating. 
The  fact  also  that  the  males  incubate  precludes  the 
possibility  of  their  deserting  their  mates,  as  is  the 
case  with  the  Ducks.  Until  something  to  the 
contrary  is  shown,  we  evidently  must  be  content 
with  the  old  theory  that  one  bird  of  each  pair  flies 
out  to  sea  during  the  night,  leaving  the  other  on 

126 


OCEAN   WANDERERS 

duty  till  its  return  after  the  shadows  have  again 
fallen,  either  to  bring  food  and  again  depart,  or  else 
to  take  its  turn  on  the  nest  and  let  its  mate  go 
foraging. 

At  the  further  end  of  the  island  we  had  noticed 
a  shanty,  and  after  awhile  we  went  to  it.  A  lone 
and  bold  fisherman  had  ensconced  himself  with  his 
family  on  lonely  Seal  Island  for  the  season,  where 
he  was  practically  monarch  of  all  he  surveyed.  He 
told  us  that  he  remained  there  lobstering  and  fishing 
until  about  December.  As  he  told  of  all  the  wild 
fowl  he  saw  and  shot  during  the  fall,  I  almost 
envied  him,  except  for  his  inability  to  view  his 
advantages  save  from  the  culinary  standpoint.  Every 
bird  was  of  interest  only  as  it  was  good  to  eat.  In 
this  connection  he  "  drew  the  line  "  on  the  Petrels. 
But  he  had  a  big  Newfoundland  dog  that  thought 
otherwise.  The  owner  told  us  that  the  animal  got 
his  own  living  unaided,  Petrels  forming  his  chief 
provision.  Practically  the  whole  island  was  bur- 
rowed full  of  them,  and,  even  while  we  were 
conversing,  the  dog  would  now  and  then  paw  out  a 
burrow  and  eat  a  poor  Petrel,  feathers  and  all,  with 
the  egg  for  an  appetizer  !  The  whole  island  smelt 
of  Petrels, — that  peculiar,  unmistakable  odour.  One 
would  think  that  any  vessel,  passing  anywhere  to 
leeward  of  Seal  Island,  would  get  a  whifF  from  that 
great  hatching-coop  of  Mother  Carey's  Chickens. 

We  passed  the  day  very  pleasantly,  exploring 
caverns,  hunting  the  cliffs  on  the  seaward  side  for 
the  nests  of  the  Black  Guillemot,  inspecting  also 
nests  of  Savanna  Sparrows,  Spotted  Sandpipers,  and 
also  one  of  a  pair  of  Barn  Swallows,  the  latter  built 

127 


AMONG  THE   WATER-FOWL 

on  to  the  rock  in  a  sort  of  open  cave  part  way 
down  the  side  of  a  deep  rift, — a  case  of  reversion 
to  the  original  habit  of  the  species.  At  sunset  we 
mounted  up  on  the  highest  part  of  the  island,  and 
strained  our  eyes  to  catch  sight  of  the  schooner. 
It  began  to  get  chilly,  and  our  prospects  seemed 
excellent  for  an  involuntary  night-study  of  the 
Petrels.  But  at  last,  sail  ho  !  In  half  an  hour 
the  vessel  anchored  off  the  island,  and  we  were 
presently  sailing  back  to  Matinicus  under  the  silver 
rays  of  the  moon. 

At  this  visit  the  Petrels  had  just  laid  their  eggs. 
Most  of  my  other  trips  to  their  breeding-grounds 
have  been  also  at  the  laying-time,  and  I  should  never 
have  known  the  quaintness  of  the  young  Petrels,  ex- 
cept for  one  delightful  morning  on  Seal  Island,  Nova 
Scotia.  This  was  in  early  September.  From  nearly 
every  burrow  into  which  I  inserted  my  arm, — 
whether  in  pasture,  woods  or  gravel-bank, — I  drew 
out  a  young  Petrel.  Some  were  completely  feathered, 
and,  but  for  the  down  that  still  clung  to  the  ends 
of  the  feathers,  they  might  have  been  taken  for 
adults.  Others  could  not  boast  a  single  real  feather, 
yet  were  warmly  clad  in  a  dense  gray  down,  a  little 
lighter  in  colour  than  the  regular  plumage.  Between 
these  extremes  there  were  all  stages.  But  every 
youngster  that  I  examined  was  fatter  and  heavier 
than  an  adult.  There  was  not  a  parent  with  the 
young  in  any  of  the  nests  that  we  examined.  The 
keeper  of  the  light  said  that  the  old  birds  flew  in 
at  night  and  fed  the  young.  That  they  performed 
this  duty  well  was  evident  enough.  I  could  not 
but  wonder,  though,  how  late  it  would  be  in  the 

128 


OCEAN  WANDERERS 

season  before  the  young  were  all  able  to  leave  the 
nests.  Probably  it  is  this  tardiness  that  makes  some 
of  the  fishermen  believe  that  the  Petrels  hibernate 
in  these  burrows,  and  come  forth  in  the  spring 
sound  and  strong. 

But  the  Ocean  Wanderers  need  not  our  theor- 
izing or  assistance  ;  they  are  a  law  unto  themselves. 
We  cannot  hope  to  follow  them  in  all  their  devious 
and  trackless  wanderings.  Storms  that  destroy  us 
are  to  them  of  little  moment.  For  decades  yet 
they  will  seek  out  their  arctic  and  antarctic  solitudes 
beyond  our  reach  and  ken.  Yet  though  they  regard 
us  not,  we  shall  know  more  of  these  wild,  free 
roving  creatures  the  more  that  we,  like  them, 
love  to  be 

"  Rocked  in  the  cradle  of  the  deep." 


129 


PART    IV 

THE   WHITE -WINGED   FLEET 

(Gulls    and    Terns) 

ONE  beautiful  summer  morning,  awaking  to 
view  again  the  splendid  panorama  of  land  and  sea 
that  is  spread  out  before  the  bluffs  of  Manomet, 
we  saw  that  during  the  night  the  mackerel -fleet 
had  arrived.  The  sea  for  miles  around  was  dotted 
with  the  white  sails  of  the  schooners,  about  forty 
being  in  sight.  With  the  gentle  breeze  they  were 
tacking  back  and  forth,  each  with  its  group  of 
keen-eyed  fishermen  on  deck.  Now  and  then  an 
agitated  appearance  at  some  spot  on  the  ocean 
surface  betokened  the  rising  of  a  school  of  macke- 
rel. At  once  we  would  see  seine-boats  hurriedly 
launched,  and  rowed  out  by  their  crews  to  surround 
the  wary  fish.  For  two  days  the  fleet  remained, 
making  a  scene  of  beauty  and  activity  long  to  be 
remembered.  Then  we  awoke  to  find  that  they 
had  departed  as  suddenly  as  they  had  come,  taking 
with  them  the  charm  that  their  presence  had  added 
to  the  surroundings. 

But  there  remained  another  white-winged  fleet. 
Beautiful  Terns  were  flitting  over  the  sparkling 
water,  and  plunging  headlong  into  it  after  an  hum- 
bler finny  prey.  Before  long  the  large  white  Gulls 
would  come  from  the  north,  and  patrol  these  shores 
in  winter,  when  the  Terns  had  sought  a  warmer 
clime.  There  is  no  class  of  birds  more  beautiful, 

130 


THE   WHITE  -WINGED    FLEET 

more  interesting,  more  picturesque  than  these  ex- 
quisite snowy -plumaged  creatures,  most  of  them 
pearly- mantled,  that  grace  our  lake  and  ocean 


GULL    IN    FLIGHT— PROBABLY   THE    WESTERN    GULL.     A   WING   STUDY 
BY  OTTO  VON    BARGEN 

shores.  With  easy  flight  they  winnow  the  air, 
wheeling  and  circling  even  to  the  clouds.  Some 
dart  headlong  to  surprise  the  wary  fish;  others  float 
down  like  snow-flakes  to  take  what  the  sea  has 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

cast  up  for  them.  Again,  they  gather  together, 
either  in  buoyant  flocks  upon  the  water,  or  to  dress 
their  spotless  plumage  upon  the  strand.  The  loss 
would  be  unutterable  were  this  fleet  to  be  lost  in 
the  gale  of  fashion  upon  the  cruel  rocks  of  a  selfish 
and  senseless  millinery  decree. 

Social  in  disposition,  it  is  the  universal  habit  of 
these  dainty  creatures  to  resort  together  in  large 
colonies  at  the  nesting -season  for  the  rearing  of 
their  young ;  and  of  all  the  picturesque  spots  on 
earth,  I  place  in  very  high  rank  certain  of  these 
breeding-colonies.  One  there  is  in  Nova  Scotia, 
which  seems  to  me  to  be  particularly  beautiful. 
With  two  companions,  I  stood  one  clear,  calm 
morning  of  early  September,  upon  a  wharf  at 
Clarke's  Harbor,  Cape  Sable  Island,  listening  to 
the  tale  of  woe  of  our  would-be  fisherman-skipper, 
as  he  portrayed  the  impossibility  of  reaching  Seal 
Island,  twenty  miles  out  to  sea,  against  strong  head 
tides,  and  with  what  little  wind  there  was  also  con- 
trary. This  was  our  last  chance  to  make  the  trip, 
and  I  could  not  bear  to  abandon  it.  So,  after  the 
prophet  of  evil  had  departed,  I  proposed  that  we 
start  off  without  him  in  the  twenty-three-foot  sloop. 
It  was  slow  work,  but  at  length  we  sighted  the  rocky 
shores  and  spruce-grown  area;  and  by  sundown 
the  sloop  was  anchored  off  a  cove,  and  we  were 
receiving  the  royal  hospitality  of  kind-hearted  John 
Crowell,  the  light-house  keeper. 

Before  sunrise  next  morning  we  were  in  the 
light-house  tower.  The  cold,  dark  sea,  foam-flecked, 
spread  out  beyond,  the  shores  of  Nova  Scotia  dimly 
visible  to  the  northeast.  Before  us  stretched  the 

132 


THE   WHITE -WINGED    FLEET 


dark,  spruce-covered  island,  spectacle-shaped,  the 
two  lobes  connected  by  a  narrow  bar.  Dotted  all 
over  the  spruces  were  snowy  Herring  Gulls  perched 
upon  their  tops  ;  many  others  were  already  a-wing, 
flying  out  to  sea  to  feed,  squealing  and  cackling 
incessantly.  The  sky  was  clear,  and  the  east  already 
rosy  red,  changing  its  hues  moment  by  moment, 
as  the  sun  approached  the  horizon.  All  at  once 
the  glowing  orb  seemed  to  fairly  bound  from  the 
deep,  and  instantly  the  whole  scene  was  wonder- 
ously  transformed.  The  ocean,  recently  so  dark, 
now  glittered  and  sparkled  as  with  myriad  dia- 
monds; the  spruces  reddened  under  their  baptism 
o  f  fire  ;  the 
Gulls  were 
gleams  of  living 
radiance.  From 
the  spruces  ex- 
tended a  long 
line  of  them  in 
flight,  going  a 
mile  or  more 
out  to  some 
shoal  water, 
where  a  large 
flock  were  rid- 
ing at  anchor, 
and  others  were 
hovering  over  schools  of  fish.  "Devil's  Limb,"  the 
grim  rock  of  Cormorant-resort  to  the  westward, 
looked  less  forbidding  in  the  glad  sunshine  that 
warmed  up  its  wet,  ragged  sides  into  the  semblance 
of  a  smile. 


WESTERN  GULLS.   BY  OTTO  VON  BARGEN 


133 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

We  lingered  awhile,  spell-bound  at  the  vision, 
then  we  started  out  with  the  keeper  to  see  the 
bird -wonders  at  closer  range.  Black  Guillemots 
bred  abundantly  in  the  crevices  under  the  loose 
rocks  that  were  piled  up  on  the  shores  by  the  fury 
of  the  gales.  The  breeding-season  was  over,  but 
some  still  sunned  themselves  on  the  rocks,  or  were 
swimming  or  diving  off-shore.  Crossing  the  sand- 
bar, where  Yellowlegs,  Turnstones,  and  Sandpipers 
fed,  we  inspected  some  of  the  abounding  Petrels' 
burrows,  and  then  turned  our  attention  to  the  great 
colony  of  the  island,  that  of  the  Herring  Gulls. 
The  usual  custom  of  this  species  is  to  select  or 
make  a  hollow  in  the  ground,  and  build  around  it 
a  nest  of  grass,  feathers,  and  seaweed;  but  some- 
times—  on  account  of  persecution,  it  is  probable  — 
they  take  to  the  trees.  So  it  was  here,  to  a  large 
extent.  Nearly  all  the  nests  were  in  the  woods. 
Some  of  them  were  placed  at  the  foot  of  trees,  or 
under  spreading  spruce  saplings,  but  most  of  them 
were  built  in  the  tops  of  the  spruces  which  grew 
usually  only  about  twenty  or  twenty -five  feet  in 
height.  When  the  nests  were  on  the  ground  they 
were  generally  rather  slight  affairs,  but  on  the  trees 
they  were  very  bulky  platforms.  The  Gulls  had 
brought  load  after  load  of  grass  and  seaweed,  till 
the  mass  was  often  large  and  firm  enough  to  hold 
a  man.  At  any  rate  some  of  them  held  me  very 
comfortably  while  I  gazed  around  over  the  floor:like 
top  of  the  forest,  and  watched  the  Gulls  wheeling 
about  in  the  air.  I  could  almost  imagine  how  it 
felt  to  be  a  young  Gull.  Some  of  the  nests  were 
built  in  the  upper  crotch  of  the  trees,  others  on 

134 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 

the   firm,  spreading  tops   that   grew  into   an   almost 

solid  platform. 

By  September  the  breeding  season  is  nominally 

over,  but  on  account  of  the   pillaging  of    nests   by 

fishermen,  there   were   still   a   considerable   number 

of  the  young 
Gulls  not  yet 
able  to  fly.  They 
had  all  left  the 
nests,  having 
found  some  way, 
probably  with 
the  parents' 
help,  of  d  e  - 
scending  to  the 
ground.  It  was 
a  comical  sight, 
those  odd,  mot- 

ANOTHER  STUDY   OF  THE   WESTERN   GULL  t  1  C  Q  ,          partly 

BY  OTTO  VON  BARGEN  downy,      partly 

These  studies  were  made  in  San  Francisco  harbor,  where  the  n       1  I 
large    Gulls,— as    a    class    ordinarly    very    wary,— have    become,  tleClPjeCl.  W6  D  " 
through   protection,  almost  fearless   of    man,  especially  the  imma- 
ture individuals,  which  the  photographs  represent.  f  O  O  t  C  d  CTCa* 

tures,  as  large  as  pullets,  that  were  wandering  about 
in  the  woods  everywhere,  pattering  over  the  spruce- 
needle  carpet,  or  else  trying  to  hide  by  squatting 
under  some  bush  or  thick  low  growth.  All  the  eggs 
were  hatched  that  would  do  so,  but  now  and  then  we 
found  an  addled  one  in  the  nest,  a  great  dark  drab 
affair,. heavily  spotted  with  black,  larger  than  a  hen's 
egg.  I  was  struck  with  the  similarity  of  the  color 
and  markings  of  the  egg  and  of  the  young  Gulls. 
The  smaller  youngsters  looked  for  all  the  world  like 
eggs  with  stilts  stuck  into  them  below,  and  a  neck 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

inserted  on  the  end.  And  how  ridiculously  those 
seeming  eggs  lying  on  the  ground  would  suddenly 
arise  and  scurry  off  at  such  a  rate  that  one  had  to 
be  spry  to  catch  them!  The  colors  blend  perfectly 
with  their  usual  surroundings  on  a  pebbly  shore,  and 
this  is  the  protection  that  the  plan  of  Nature  affords 
to  all  young  birds  of  this  class.  Long  before  they 
become  white,  they  can  care  for  themselves. 

A  great  many  of  the  young  Gulls  had  taken  to 
wing,  and  large  numbers  of  both  dark,  spotted  young 
and  snowy-plumaged  parents  everywhere  we  went 
were  hovering  overhead,  often  not  more  than  fifty 
feet  above  us.  Nor  were  they  silent  observers  of 
our  intrusion,  for  of  all  the  noisy  places  on  earth 
I  do  not  know  of  anything  that  can  equal  a  Gull- 
colony.  Each  bird  seems  to  consider  it  a  matter 
of  Gull-morality  to  scream  at  regular  intervals  of 
not  more  than  two  seconds.  When  several  hun- 
dreds, or  thousands,  are  thus  engaged,  it  would  be 
deaf  ears  indeed  that  were  not  almost  overpowered 
with  the  volume  of  sound. 

The  first  Herring  Gull  colony  that  I  ever  saw 
was  on  Great  Duck  Island,  Maine.  In  a  dense 
fog  we  beat  to  it  from  Mount  Desert,  and  went 
ashore  in  the  tender.  The  Gulls  bred  mostly  on 
the  ground  here,  but  some  had  taken  to  the  trees. 
This  was  early  July,  and  the  nests,  probably  having 
been  robbed,  still  had  eggs. 

For  years  I  have  loved  to  visit  a  fine  colony  of 
the  Herring  Gull  on  "  No  Man's  Land,"  a  lonely 
island  far  off  the  shores  of  Maine.  Though  the 
name  truly  represents  its  wildness,  it  is  not  accu- 
rate at  the  present  time,  for  the  island  is  under 

136 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 

human  ownership,  and  the  Gulls, — as  now  are  the 
Gulls  and  Terns  on  all  the  principal  breeding- 
islands  from  Virginia  to  Maine, —  are  rigorously 
protected  by  law  and  by  wardens.  This  is  as  it 


"OTHERS    PERCHED    UPON    THE    SPRUCE  -  TREES."       HERRING   GULLS,  IN    A 
MAINE    ISLAND    COLONY.       BY    W.  L.   BAILY 

should  have  been  long  before.  "No  Man's  Land" 
is  another  of  the  picturesque,  rugged,  spruce-clad 
islands  typical  of  this  coast.  As  we  approach  it, 
we  begin  to  see  a  horde  of  circling  birds,  hun- 
dreds of  them  gathered  in  groups  on  the  rocks, 
and  others  perched  upon  the  spruce-trees.  Then, 

137 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 


running  the  tender  up  on  a  shelf  of  rock  when 
the  wave  serves,  all  the  thousand  and  more  great 
Gulls  hover  screaming,  or  gather  in  groups  on  the 
dark  trees,  making  a  wonderful  picture.  Up  above 
the  rocks  there  is  an  area  of  pasture  where  graze 
a  flock  of  sheep,  which  have  been  ferried  over 
here  for  the  season  to  live  and  multiply, —  if  they 
can.  Some  fail,  as  their  dead  bodies  show,  and  the 
Ravens  have  plenty  of  wool  with  which  to  line 
their  nests.  All  over  the  pasture,  in  all  sorts  of 
places,  are  the  nests  of  the  Gulls,  deeply  hollowed 
beds  of  seaweed,  some  quite  slight,  others  substan- 
tial. Now  we  come  upon  one  under  a  low  spruce 

bush,  then  be- 
side a  rock,  or 
boldly  out  in  the 
open.  Then  we 
extend  our  ram- 
ble into  the 
sprue  e-woods, 
and  here  they 
are  just  the  same, 
all  about  on  the 
ground  among 
the  trees.  But,  strangely  enough,  on  this  island  I 
have  never  yet  found  a  nest  on  a  tree,  though  I 
know  that  the  birds  have  been  considerably  dis- 
turbed by  the  fishermen.  Most  of  the  nests,  un- 
less marauders  have  been  there,  contain  three  eggs; 
often  there  are  but  two,  and  now  and  then  four. 
They  vary  so  greatly  in  ground-color  and  markings 
that  it  is  fascinating  to  go  all  over  the  island  and 
look  at  every  nest  that  we  can  find.  I  recall  one 

138 


"ARE   THE    NESTS    OF   THE    GULLS."       NEST   OF   HER- 
RING   GULL,   MAINE.       BY    A.   C.   BENT 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 

nest  that  had  two  very  dark  eggs,  much  the  color 
of  Loons'.  Not  far  from  it  was  a  set  of  three, 
two  of  which,  save  for  a  few  sparse  spots,  were 
pale  bluish  green.  Between  these  types  there  are 
almost  endless  variations. 


Not  many  miles  from  here  is  Matinicus  Rock, 
notable  for  its  great  colony  of  Arctic  Terns.  This 
island  has  not  the  beauty  that  the  spruces  lend  to 
"No  Man's  Land."  Its  very  aspect  is  of  desola- 
tion, and  a  reminder  of  the  terrors  of  the  forces 
of  Nature  as  displayed  in  wind  and  storm.  Even 
before  we  approach  close  enough  to  see  the  birds, 
the  keen  ear  can  detect  above  the  roar  of  the  surf 
that  monotone  into  which  the  thousands  of  grating 
Tern-cries  unite  at  that  distance.  Then  we  can 
see  them  in  the  air,  and  all  over  the  old  sea-beat 
rocks,  literally  thousands  of  them.  At  the  time  of 
my  last  visit,  several  years  ago,  I  should  say  that 
there  were  from  three  to  five  thousand  Terns,  and 
the  number  is  said  to  be  increasing,  now  that  the 
keeper  of  the  light  has  been  made  a  game-warden, 
and  depredations  upon  them  have  largely  ceased. 

The  keepers  are  very  hospitable  toward  well- 
disposed  people,  and  I  have  passed  some  very  pleas- 
ant days  there  with  them,  studying  the  habits  of  the 
birds  and  looking  at  their  eggs.  It  would  hardly 
be  correct  to  speak  of  nests,  for  few  of  them  make 
what  could  by  any  charity  be  called  such.  Very 
many  of  the  Terns  lay  on  the  bare  rock,  preferring, 
however,  some  little  nook  where  a  small  quantity  of 
soil  or  debris  has  found  lodgement.  Here  and 

139 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

there  a  little  vegetation  has  taken  hold, — a  few  spears 
of  grass,  or  a  little  clump  of  weeds.  A  slight  hol- 
low in  such  a  place  serves  very  well  for  a  nest,  and 
the  addition  of  a  few  stems  of  grass  or  seaweed 
tucked  around  it  for  a  rim,  answers  to  give  the 
owner  the  distinction  of  a  wealthy  house-owner  and 
tax -payer. 

Whether  the  distinction  will  ordinarily  hold  or 
not,  I  cannot  say,  but  the  Arctic  Terns  of  this 
colony,  and  of  others  that  I  have  visited,  lay  gener- 
ally but  two  eggs,  while  with  the  Common  or  Wil- 
son's Tern  three  is  the  ordinary  number.  On  one 
occasion,  when  I  looked  the  island  over  pretty  care- 
fully, and  inspected  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  sets 
of  eggs,  only  about  a  dozen  contained  three  eggs, 
and  none  more  ;  the  rest  two  each. 

There  is  the  usual  interesting  variety  in  the 
colors  and  markings  of  these  eggs  that  there  is  in 
those  of  other  Terns  and  Gulls,  nor  is  there  any 
perceptible  difference  between  the  eggs  of  the  va- 
rious species  of  Terns  of  the  size  of  the  Arctics. 
In  these  colonies  I  always  like  to  look  for  oddly 
marked  or  colored  eggs,  and  among  so  many  some 
very  strange  types  are  found.  On  this  island  one 
season  I  found  two  eggs  in  a  little  hollow  of  the 
rock  that  were  of  a  clear  light  blue  ground-color, 
with  only  a  few  sparse  spots.  The  next  year,  in  the 
very  same  place,  were  two  precisely  similar  eggs. 
A  daughter  of  one  of  the  keepers  gave  me  a  plain 
bluish  green  egg  without  a  single  spot,  which  she 
had  found  in  a  previous  season. 

The  Terns  were  all  over  the  Island,  except  at 
the  southeast  corner,  near  the  cluster  of  buildings ; 

140 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 

but  within  a  hundred  feet  or  so  of  these  we  began 
to  see  eggs.  The  birds  kept  up  their  clamor  all 
the  time,  and  hundreds  were  ever  in  the  air;  but 
when  we  came  from  the  buildings  and  began  to 
invade  the  territory  which  they  regarded  as  their 
own,  practically  the  whole  colony  rose  and  hovered 
about,  redoubling  their  vociferations.  Now  and 
then  one  would  swoop  close  to  our  heads,  evidently 
the  owner  of  the  eggs  over  which  we  were  stepping. 
And  so  it  is  at  all  Tern  colonies.  It  is  bewildering, 
and  always  fascinating.  No  matter  how  many  colo- 
nies I  have  visited,  I  am  always  ready  to  see  another. 
The  whole  surroundings,  of  birds,  and  rock  or  sand 
and  ocean  impresses  one  with  the  vitality  of  unal- 
loyed Nature,  a  scene  of  abounding,  exuberant  life. 
How  eagerly  the  faithful  custodians  of  the 
lights  on  these  lonely  isolated  spots  look  forward  to 
the  return  of  the  birds,  we  may  readily  imagine. 
Were  there  no  other  calendar,  the  Terns  could 
quite  accurately  supply  one.  They  are  very  regular 
in  their  coming.  At  the  time  of  my  last  visit  the 
keeper  told  me  they  arrived  in  a  large  body  that 
year  on  May  14,  and  laid  the  first  eggs  on  the  28th. 
The  season  preceding,  their  date  of  arrival  was  May 
17,  and  from  these  dates,  I  am  told,  there  is  little 
variation.  He  did  not  have  the  exact  dates  of  de- 
parture, but  from  my  observation  with  other  colo- 
nies I  should  say  it  was  not  later  than  early  Septem- 
ber. As  soon  as  the  young  are  on  the  wing,  they 
begin  to  scatter,  and  when  the  tardier  ones  can  fly, 
they  are  soon  gone.  In  one  colony  I  found  a  few 
young  on  the  rocks  the  first  of  September.  But 
before  that  month  has  sped  most  of  the  Terns  have 

141 


AMONG  THE   WATER    FOWL 


left  the  New  England  shores,  though  some  linger 
later,  and  I  once  saw  a  Tern  —  of  the  common 
species  I  took  it  to  be — on  Christmas  day. 

The  common  or  Wilson's  Tern  is  our  most 
abundant  species,  very  similar  in  habits  and  appear- 
ance to  the  Arctic  Tern.  It  was  years  before  I 
could  tell  them  apart,  and  no  one  can  always  feel 
sure.  The  former  kind  has  a  paler  bill,  with  black 
at  the  tip,  while  the  bill  of  the  Arctic  is  all  of  a  dark 
coral  red,  and  its  breast  is  usually  darker  than  that 
of  its  relative.  What  a  delightful  panorama  it  brings 
to  my  mind  to  recall  the  various  breeding  colonies 
of  this  species  that  I  have  visited !  Some  were  on 
various  rocky  islands  of  the  coast  of  Maine,  and 
suggest  scenes  of  sunshine  and  fog,  breeze  and 
storm,  wave  and  calm;  others  were  at  the  Magda- 
len Islands  —  small  groups  of  a  dozen  pairs  or  so 

on  numerous  lit- 
tle islands  in  the 
ponds,  and  es- 
pecially one 
great  area  of 
sand  between 
the  outer  beach 
and  the  lagoon, 
where  nests  were 
scattered  along 
for  miles,  con- 
structed with  all 
grades  of  mechanical  art,  from  a  bare  hollow  in  the 
sand  to  a  substantial  bed  of  grass  or  seaweed. 
Along  the  beach  at  this  locality  were  feeding  im- 
mature Herring,  Great  Black  -  backed,  Glaucus, 

142 


CONSTRUCTED  WITH  ALL  GRADES  OF  MECHANICAL 
ART,  FROM  A  BARE  HOLLOW  IN  THE  SAND."  NEST 
OF  COMMON  TERN,  MAGDALEN  ISLANDS 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 


and  Bonaparte's  Gulls,  whose  presence  certainly 
enlivened  the  scene  for  me. 

Off  the  southern  shores  of  Massachusetts  there 
are  various  sandy  islands  on  which  these  Terns  and 
others  breed. 
One  of  these 
others,  not  yet 
spoken  of,  is  the 
beautiful  Rose- 
ate Tern ,  very 
similar  in  appear- 
ance and  habit, 
breeding  near 

and  even  among  "T0  A  SUBSTANTIAL  BED  OF  GRASS."  ANOTHER  NEST 
the  Other  SDe-  OF  COMMON  TERN'  MAGDALEN  ISLANDS 

cies,  but  distinguishable  by  its  slender  form  and  long 
tail,  and  a  very  white  breast,  that  in  the  right  light 
shows  a  beautiful  pink  blush  of  a  most  delicate  hue. 
Any  adjectives  that  I  could  use  would  be  far  inade- 
quate to  describe  the  grace  and  beauty  of  the 
Roseate  Tern. 

In  the  same  habitat,  from  Massachusetts  south- 
ward, is  found  that  dainty  little  sylph,  the  Least 
Tern.  I  first  saw  it  along  the  broad,  lonely  ocean 
beaches  of  the  " back-side"  of  Cape  Cod.  There, 
as  we  walk  along,  several  little  Terns,  much  smaller 
than  the  other  kinds,  hover  rather  high  over  or 
beyond  us,  uttering  their  shrill  staccato  uyip,  yip, 
yip.n  After  a  good  deal  of  tramping,  keeping  our 
eyes  painfully  upon  the  blinding  glare  of  the  dry, 
sandy  expanse  back  from  high-water  mark,  we  may 
now  and  then  detect  two,  or  occasionally  three,  little 
eggs  that  look  almost  exactly  like  the  mottled  peb- 


AMONG   THE    WATER    FOWL 


bles,  lying  in  a  slight  hollow  that  is  unlined,  except 
sometimes  for  a  scant  bed  of  little  chips  of  mussel- 
shell.  These  are  the  Least  Terns'  nests. 

Previous  to  the  departure  of  the  Terns  from  us 
in  the  autumn,  they  are  everywhere  flitting  about 
our  shores  and  bays,  following  up  the  schools  of 
small  fish  and  resting  on  sandbars,  flats,  or  even 

boats,  buoys  or 
fishermen's 
traps.  Old  and 
young  are  inter- 
mingled,  and 
they  are  tame 
and  gentle.  To 
bays  where  there 
is  good  fishing 


they   will    resort 

THREE  LITTLE    EGGS    THAT   LOOK  ALMOST  EXACTLY  j      «|  n      • 

LIKE    THE    MOTTLED  PEBBLES,  LYING  IN  A  SLIGHT  daily,      flying     OUt 

HOLLOW  THAT  IS  UNLINED.  EXCEPT  SOMETIMES 
FOR  A  SCANT  BED  OF  LITTLE  CHIPS  OF  MUSSEL- 
SHELL."  NEST  OF  LEAST  TERN.  BY  W.  H.  FISHER 


seaward 
night. 


at 


The  Herring  Gull  is  the  only  true  Gull  that 
nests  on  the  coast  of  Maine.  From  Massachus- 
setts  southward  the  Laughing  Gull  nests  spar- 
ingly on  sandy  islands  and  marshes,  often  near 
colonies  of  Terns.  The  other  species  of  the  Gulls 
are  more  northerly  than  either  of  the  above.  Im- 
mature individuals  linger  far  south  of  the  breed- 
ing-range of  the  species.  So  when  one  sees  more 
or  less  mottled  Great  Black-backed,  Glaucus,  or 
Bonaparte's  Gulls  in  summer,  do  not  imagine  that 
their  nests  can  be  discovered  by  any  amount  of 
search. 

Early  autumn   begins   to   bring   the  Gulls  to  us 

144 


THE    WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 

from  the  north.  By  the  middle  of  August,  among 
flocks  of  Terns  we  can  often  pick  out  a  bird  or 
two  of  heavier  build,  square  tail,  and  slower  flight, 
that  proves  to  be  Bonaparte's  Gull  in  winter  dress, 
without  the  striking  black  hood.  By  September, 
or  even  earlier,  our  familiar  Herring  Gull  begins 
to  return  south  from  the  breeding-grounds.  If  we 
look  carefully  we  may  notice  a  very  similar  Gull 
that  is  a  little  smaller,  known  as  the  Ring-bill, 
which,  in  the  coast-region,  goes  in  summer  far  to 
the  north.  In  late  fall  the  beautiful  Kittiwake 
becomes  abundant  well  off  shore  on  the  fishing- 
grounds,  and  the  big  fellows  appear, —  the  Great 
Black-backed,  which  becomes  fairly  common,  and 
the  rare  Glaucus  Gull,  or  Burgomaster. 

I  well  remember  when  I  first  saw  the  "Burgo- 
master" alive.  I  was  watching  a  flock  of  Herring 
Gulls  feeding  just  off  one  of  the  Boston  docks  in 
midwinter,  when  I  became  aware  of  the  presence 
of  a  larger  individual,  a  magnificent  Gull,  white 
all  over,  without  even  the  black  wing-tips  of  the 
others.  With  them  it  was  hovering,  wheeling,  and 
alighting  to  pick  up  morsels  from  the'  water,  no 
more  fearful  than  they.  There  was  no  doubt  as 
to  what  it  was,  and  I  watched  it  for  an  hour  before 
it  went  down  the  bay.  Its  spread  of  six  feet  across 
the  wings  gave  it  an  impressive  appearance. 

This  is  the  size  also  of  the  Great  Black-backed 
Gull,  that  is  also  known  as  Turkey  Gull,  Minister 
Gull,  and  by  other  names.  The  black  plumage  of 
its  upper  parts  in  contrast  with  the  pure  white  below 
makes  it,  in  the  adult  phase,  very  conspicuous. 
But  it  is  one  of  the  shyest  of  birds.  The  Herring 

H5 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

and  Ring-billed  Gulls  are  ordinarily  shy  enough, 
except  by  wharves,  where  they  seem  to  know  that 
there  is  no  shooting  allowed.  But  the  sable-backed 
fellow  never  relents.  I  have,  in  years  past,  ex- 
hausted all  my  ingenuity  in  vain  efforts  to  get 
near  one. 

A  good  glass,  however,  makes  even  these  va- 
rious large  shy  Gulls  seem  near,  and  I  love  to 
watch  and  study  them  upon  our  coasts  in  winter 
under  the  various  conditions  :  on  restless  wing  and 
with  keen  vision  scouring  the  ocean  for  food,  tack- 
ing in  the  teeth  of  the  winter's  gales;  settling  in 
flocks  upon  the  wind-swept  sea,  out  beyond  the 
breakers  ;  gathering  on  the  beaches  and  flats  when 
the  tide  goes  down,  where  they  walk  about  with 
sedate  bearing,  and  stoop  to  conquer  the  juicy 
bivalves  or  the  luckless  crustacean ;  sitting  on  the 
edge  of  some  field  or  drifting  cake  of  ice,  the  very 
incarnation  of  Boreas.  These  are  all  typical  sights. 


To  study  the  Gulls  further,  let  us  make  a  jour- 
ney in  thought,  westward  to  North  Dakota,  that 
paradise  of  water-fowl.  There  I  will  introduce  the 
reader  to  some  islands  in  a  large  lake.  They  are 
nothing  but  small,  low,  rocky  shoals,  of  very  little 
beauty  in  themselves.  But  I  call  them  "  The  En- 
chanted Isles,"  for  there  are  more  kinds  of  water- 
birds  breeding  on  them  than  on  any  other  small 
area  that  I  have  ever  seen.  It  was  only  accidently 
that  I  learned  of  their  whereabouts  three  years  ago, 
through  one  who,  not  a  bird-student,  tarried  awhile 
in  this,  the  lake  region  of  North  Dakota.  In  all 

146 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 

I  have  paid  them  half  a  dozen  visits,  and  every 
time  have  seen  something  new. 

I  will  describe  a  visit  to  them  made  this  past 
season :  It  was  the  last  day  of  May,  a  splendid 
morning,  calm  and  bright.  Two  of  us  there  were, 
and  we  had  come  two  thousand  miles  to  see  the 
birds,  making  our  headquarters  in  a  small  shack 
with  a  hunter  who  was  to  drive  us  to  various  inter- 
esting places.  The  islands  were  about  eight  miles 
from  here,  and  at  seven  in  the  morning  we  started 
out  in  a  rather  novel  fashion,  a  pair  of  broncos 
hitched  to  a  buckboard,  upon  which  was  loaded  a 
substantial  keel  row-boat,  in  which  we  sat  with  our 
cameras  and  various  equipments.  Thus  we  voyaged 
over  the  prairie  in  our  boat  that  was  propelled  by 
horse-power.  A  pack  of  hunting-dogs  followed  us, 
and  amused  us  by  catching  gophers  and  chasing 
jack-rabbits.  In  the  latter  case,  the  quest  was  never 
successful.  Not  even  the  greyhound  seemed  able 
to  catch  such  a  marvellous  runner  as  "Jack,"  so 
long  of  limb  and  nimble.  On  these  drives  we  now 
and  then  saw  a  badger  by  its  hole,  or  a  gaunt  gray 
coyote,  or  prairie  wolf,  loping  over  the  prairie, 
stopping  now  and  then  to  look  back  at  us. 

So  we  drove  along,  exhilarated  by  the  wild  sce- 
nery of  the  prairie,  and  the  crisp,  stimulating  air. 
Reaching  the  lake,  we  unloaded  our  boat  on  the 
beach,  and,  after  tethering  out  the  horses,  pushed 
off,  heading  for  one  of  the  four  low  islands  that 
lay  over  a  mile  out  in  the  lake.  As  it  became 
plainer  to  our  vision,  the  first  signs  of  bird -life 
were  dots  all  over  the  rocks,  that  I  knew  to  be 
mainly  Ring-billed  Gulls,  and  rows  of  black  objects 

147 


AMONG   THE    WATER    FOWL 


that  represented  a  fine  colony  of  Double-crested 
Cormorants.  The  latter  were  squatting  or  standing 
upon  their  nests  that  were  placed  as  close  together 
as  possible,  resembling  in  the  distance  troops  of 
soldiers  in  martial  array. 

When  we  approached  within  quarter  of  a  mile 
they  began  to  fly  off  in  detachments  of  a  dozen  or 
so  at  a  time,  to  alight  out  in  the  lake  and  watch  us. 
Then  the  Gulls  began  to  get  uneasy  and  at  length, 
with  a  great  fluttering,  the  whole  colony  rose.  The 
air  was  filled  with  beating  white  wings  and  with  an 
almost  deafening  clamor.  There  is  no  bird  more 

capable  of  noise 
than  a  large  Gull, 
and  every  one  on 
this  island  per- 
formed faithfully 


"  NO  SOONER  HAD  WE  ADVANCED  A  FEW  STEPS  FROM 
THE  WATER'S  EDGE  THAN  WE  WERE  IN  THE 
MIDST  OF  EGGS  OF  THE  GULLS."  NEST  OF  RING- 
BILLED  GULL 


its  part. 

Then  we 
landed,  and  no 
sooner  had  ad- 
vanced a  few 
steps  from  the 
water's  edge  than 
we  were  in  the 
midst  of  eggs  of  the  Gulls.  The  island's  sur- 
face was  more  or  less  covered  with  loose  stones, 
with  some  grass  growing  on  the  summit.  The 
Gulls'  nests  were  anywhere  and  everywhere,  among 
the  stones,  besides  clumps  of  weeds,  in  the  grass, 
rather  slight  affairs  consisting  of  a  rim  of  dry  grass 
or  weed  that  seemed  to  deepen  the  slight  hollow  in 
the  ground,  which  was  lined  with  a  few  feathers. 

148 


THE   WHITE  -WINGED    FLFET 


Nearly  all  the  nests  had  three  eggs,  but  occasionally 
there  were  but  two. 

The  island  was  very  small,  hardly  more  than  an 
acre  in  extent,  so  that  it  was  not  hard  to  estimate 
the  population.  We  counted  just  about  an  even 
hundred  nests  with  eggs,  besides  a  number  more 
that  were  empty.  Some  had  probably  been  robbed, 
and  I  think  it  safe  to  say  that  there  were  three  hun- 
dred birds  belonging  on  this  island.  There  was 
about  one  pair  of  Herring  Gulls  for  ten  of  Ring-bills. 
The  eggs  of  all  had  evidently  been  laid  the  mid- 
dle of  May,  and  there  were  no  young  yet  hatched. 

Meanwhile  we  had  also  investigated  the  homes 
of  the  Cormorants,  and  a  most  interesting  sight  it 
was.  The  nests  were  good-sized  platforms,  built 
very  ingeniously 
of  crooked  sticks 
that  were  so  in- 
terwoven that 
the  nests  were 
often  substantial 
enough  to  be 
lifted  up  without 
falling  apart.  In 
fact,  we  once 
found  a  nest  on 
the  shore  of  the 
mainland  that 
had  either  been  carried  or  drifted  there,  and  yet 
was  intact.  There  were  seventy  -  three  nests  in 
all,  in  two  about  equal  areas,  one  down  by  the 
shore,  the  other  well  up  on  the  higher  part  of 
the  island,  but  not  far  away.  In  each  area  the 

149 


THE  NESTS  WERE  GOOD -SIZED  PLATFORMS,  BUILT 
VERY  INGENIOUSLY  OF  CROOKED  STICKS."  NESTS 
OF  DOUBLE -CRESTED  CORMORANTS.  THE  NEAR- 
EST HAS  IN  IT  TWO  NAKED  BLACK  YOUNG  THAT 
HARDLY  SHOW  IN  THE  PICTURE 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

nests  were  placed  touching  one  another.  Nearly  all 
of  them  held  three  or  four  very  rough  -  looking, 
dirty  white  eggs,  that  seemed  to  be  covered  with  a 
sort  of  chalky  deposit,  which  can  be  scraped  off, 
when  a  harder  bluish  shell  is  exposed.  In  one  nest 
there  were  six  eggs,  and  on  previous  visits  I  had 
seen  seven  and  eight.  Many  of  the  eggs  seemed 
fresh,  but  in  a  few  cases  one  or  two  young  had 
hatched.  I  doubt  if  there  is  in  bird-world  any- 
thing uglier  than  a  young  Cormorant,  blind  and 
naked,  with  a  slimy  looking  black  skin. 

My  companion  and  the  guide  now  rowed  off  to 
the  next  island,  while  I  remained  to  see  what  I  could 
do  at  photographing  the  Ring-billed  Gulls,  which  I 
noticed  settled  on  their  nests  whenever  we  kept  out 
of  sight.  I  selected  a  spot  where  there  were  a  num- 
ber of  nests  quite  close  together,  just  above  the  top 
of  the  beach.  Here  was  a  sort  of  windrow  of 
stones,  piled  up  by  the  waves,  just  near  enough  to 
the  nests  to  be  useful.  Removing  some  of  the 
stones,  I  made  a  level  spot  for  the  camera,  focused 
it  so  as  to  take  in  half  a  dozen  of  the  nests,  cov- 
ered it  with  the  cloth,  attached  the  spool  of  strong 
thread  and  set  the  shutter,  then  piled  up  stones 
around  and  upon  it,  except  in  front.  Carefully  I 
unwound  and  laid  the  thread  along  the  beach  nearly 
the  whole  length  of  the  2OO-yard  spool.  To  where 
the  thread  ended  I  brought  the  old  sail,  and  lay 
down  under  it.  After  some  hovering  the  Gulls 
began  one  by  one  to  alight,  until  at  last  there 
seemed  to  be  quite  a  number  of  them  in  front  of 
the  camera.  I  was  too  far  away  to  see  just  when 
things  were  at  their  best;  but,  as  general  conditions 

150 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 


were  propitious,  I  drew  in  what  slack  there  was  and 
pulled  the  thread  taut.  The  Gulls  showed  no  signs 
of  having  heard  the  shutter,  but  it  had  sprung  all 

right  I  found 
when  I  walked 
up. 

In  the  same 

,i~  manner   I    pro- 

ceeded with  the 
work,  taking  a 
few  more  shots 
from  the  same 
position,  then 
focusing  on  a 
single  nest  at 
close  range,  or 
on  a  couple  of 
nests,  and  again 
on  a  rock  where  the  Gulls  frequently  alighted.  In 
the  latter  case  I  got  a  fine  exposure  on  two  birds 
on  top  of  the  rock.  The  Gulls  soon  became  much 
more  confident,  and  would  return  to  their  nests  as 
soon  as  I  retired,  often  standing  so  near  the  camera 
as  to  brush  against  it.  Of  course  the  exposures  had 
to  be  instantaneous,  and  cloud  areas  bothered  me  a 
good  deal.  The  Cormorants  proved  to  be  too  shy 
to  be  photographed.  When  the  boat  returned  with 
accounts  of  wonderful  finds  on  the  other  islands,  all 
too  soon  for  me,  I  had  what  proved  later  to  be  a 
very  interesting  series  of  Gull  pictures,  the  fruits 
of  a  hard  day's  work.  If  anyone  thinks  it  easy,  I 
would  like  to  put  him  on  a  glaring  beach  in  a  broil- 
ing sun,  without  a  trace  of  a  breeze,  surrounded 

152 


"THEN  FOCUSING  ON  A  SINGLE  NEST  AT  CLOSE  RANGE 
RING-BILLED    GULL    ON    NEST 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 


by  bird-filth  and  swarms  of  insects,  and  given  the 
nests  of  some  rather  shy  Gulls  and  a  camera,  let 
him  try  it,  and  see  if  he  could  keep  his  temper 
when  the  string  became  snarled,  and  how  many 
fogged  plates  he  would  get. 

On   June    15,    the  weather  calm    and    cloudy,  we 
again  visited    "The    Enchanted    Isles,"   four  of    us 
this    time.     We    took   some    more    pictures    on    the 
same  island,  and  then  rowed  to  the  next  two,  that 
lay    together    a 
mile       away. 
There    we    had 

enough    to    oc-  ftp 

cupy    us     the  ^    v 

rest  of  the  day. 
These  islands 
were  each  con- 
siderably larger 
than  the  other, 
and  were  teem- 
ing with  bird- 
life.  The  first 
of  them  had 
on  it  quite  a  colony  of  Common  Terns,  the  second 
a  much  larger  one  of  Terns,  and  quite  a  num- 
ber of  Ring  -  billed  Gulls,  perhaps  a  hundred  of 
the  latter.  The  Terns  had  their  sets,  usually  of 
three  eggs,  everywhere  about  —  above  the  beach, 
among  the  stones,  and  in  the  grass.  We  photo- 
graphed a  great  many  nests  of  various  sorts,  and  it 
was  well  that  we  did  it  early,  for  about  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon  the  sky  grew  very  dark,  and  a 
furious  rain  set  in.  Fortunately,  we  were  well  pre- 
153 


I  GOT  A  FINE  EXPOSURE  ON  TWO  BIRDS  ON  TOP  OF 
THE  ROCK."  RING -BILLED  GULLS  ABOUT  TO  RE- 
TURN TO  THEIR  NESTS 


AMONG  THE   WATER    FOWL 

pared  for  it,  with  coats  and  boots.  We  turned  the 
boat  partly  over,  put  our  cameras  and  accessories 
under  it,  and  took  refuge  there  ourselves.  It  was 
a  fine  outlook  over  the  storm -swept  lake.  The 
rain,  pouring  down  on  its  surface,  splashed  up  jets 
and  bubbles,  and  made  the  whole  sheet  of  water 
white  in  its  agitation.  Frequently  what  amounted 
to  almost  a  cloudburst  would  occur,  and  everything 
would  be  shut  out  from  view,  nothing  remaining 
visible  over  the  lake  but  a  blinding  sheet  of  de- 
scending water.  This  was  very  picturesque,  and  we 
enjoyed  it  for  awhile ;  but  when  the  moments  grew 
to  hours  without  a  sign  of  slacking  it  began  to  get 
monotonous.  Finally,  at  half-past  six,  we  buttoned 
up  our  coats,  covered  up  our  cameras  in  the  rub- 
ber cloths,  and  pulled  out  into  the  storm.  Fortu- 
nately, the  rain  soon  ceased,  and  after  dark  we 
reached  the  hospitable  Dakota  shack  none  the  worse 
for  a  little  wetting. 

A  week  later  we  made  still  another  visit  to  our 
enchanted  islands.  We  began  at  the  one  not  yet 
visited,  and  found  there  the  usual  pleasing  variety 
of  water  fowl,  and  good  colonies  of  Terns  and  Ring- 
bills.  Then  we  rowed  to  the  third  island.  Terns 
and  Gulls  filled  the  air,  and  Ducks  flew  squawking 
away.  It  was  a  fine  day,  and  I  set  the  camera  for 
a  view  of  Gulls  on  the  rocks,  getting  two  expo- 
sures after  a  vexatious  delay  caused  by  one  of  the 
company  innocently  walking  through  my  invisible 
line  of  thread,  and  getting  it  all  tangled  up  in  the 
weeds.  Then,  after  photographing  some  nests,  I 
tried  my  luck  on  the  Terns.  There  were  hosts  of 
them  all  over  the  island,  and  they  made  a  prodig- 

154 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 


ious   and    unceasing    fuss   over  my  presence,  going 

on  to  their  nests  awhile,  and   flying  up  again  with- 

out any  seeming   provocation.      At  first  I   thought 

that    the    task    I 

had    grappled 

with     so     confi- 

dently     would 

find  the  day  too 

short  for  its   ac- 

complishment. I 

set  the  camera  in 

the      sand,     or 

grass,  by  shelter- 

ing    clumps     of 

weeds,  near  two 

or    three     nests, 

but  the  hovering 

birds  provoking- 

ly  would  not  go 

on,  and  I  could 

not   afford    time 

for  an  indefinite 


wait  At     laCt      T  l>1   TRIED  MY  LUCK   ON   THE   TERNS."     YOUNG   COM- 

MON TERN 

noticed  a  set  of 

two  eggs  that  were  pipped,  and  I  certainly  thought 
the  owner  would  brave  the  camera  for  them.  So 
she  did.  With  the  thread  in  hand  I  lay  down 
on  the  sand  about  fifty  yards  away.  Within  five 
minutes  she  alit  close  to  the  nest,  and  I  got  a 
picture,  and  soon  another,  as  she  was  covering  her 
eggs. 

Quite    a   few  of   the    Gulls'  eggs   had   hatched. 
The    young  were    skulking   among   the  weeds  and 

155 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 


stones,  or   had    betaken    themselves,  in    small   part- 
ies,  for  a   swim  out   on  the   lake.     Here   I    had    it 

more  impressed 
upon  me  than 
ever  that  these 
beautiful  and  in- 
nocent -  appear- 
ing species  of  the 
Laridae  are  not 
always  in  con- 
duct what  we 
might  expect 
from  appear- 
ance. I  noticed 
quite  frequently 
that  some  Tern 
or  Terns  would 
angrily  dive 
down  at  a  young 
Ring-bill  out  on 
the  water,  and 
strike  it  some 
p  retty  hard 
blows.  One  of 
my  friends,  who 
returned  there 
later  in  the  sea- 
son, saw  Terns 
again  and  again 
strike  a  young 
Gull  till  the  in- 
nocent head  fell, 
and  the  bird  lay 


WITHIN  FIVE  MINUTES  SHE  ALIT  CLOSE  TO  THE  NEST" 
COMMON  TERN,  ABOUT   TO  SETTLE  UPON  HER  EGGS 


'AND  SOON  ANOTHER.  AS  SHE  WAS  COVERING  HER  EGGS 
THE    SAME  TERN  AS  IN  ABOVE  ILLUSTRATION 


156 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 


dead  on  the  water.  I  also  noticed,  when  I  first 
visited  the  Cormorant  island,  that  when  the  Cor- 
morants were  frightened  off  their  nests,  before 
they  would  return,  the  Gulls  settled  down  upon 
their  homes,  and  ate  a  number  of  the  eggs.  I  have 
already  re- 
corded the  case 
of  the  Frank- 
lin's Gull  plun- 
dering  the 
Grebe's  nest, 
and  it  is  evi- 
dent that  such 
deeds  of  vio- 
ence  are  a  fam- 
ily trait  among 
our  beautiful 
and  interesting 
friends.  But 
with  all  their 
faults  we  shall  continue  to  love  them,  and  refrain 
from  flinging  at  them  in  cynical  spirit,  "  handsome 
is  that  handsome  does." 


"THE  YOUNG  WERE  SKULKING  AMONG  THE  WEEDS   AND 
STONES."      YOUNG   RING-BILLED   GULL 


Among  all  birds,  I  do  not  know  of  a  more 
beautiful  species  than  the  Franklin's  Rosy  Gull.  It 
is  of  medium  size,  resembling  Bonaparte's  Gull  in 
having  a  black  hood,  as  it  were,  over  the  head  and 
the  upper  neck,  with  pearl-grey  upper  parts;  but 
the  under  portions,  which  are  white,  have  added  a 
beautiful  rosy  blush.  They  are  said  to  breed  from 
Dakota  northward  to  the  Arctic  sea.  Besides  being 


AMONG  THE   WATER    FOWL 

beautiful,  they  are  interesting  in  being  illusive.  All 
over  the  prairies  they  straggle,  in  small  groups  or 
in  large  flocks.  The  settlers  call  them  "  Prairie 
Pigeons,"  and  I  know  of  no  more  unique  and 
beautiful  sight  than  to  see  a  small  army  of  them 
follow  the  farmer  as  he  ploughs,  dropping  into  the 
newly  turned  furrow  behind  him  like  snow-flakes, 
to  pick  up  the  worms  and  grubs  that  are  exposed 
to  view.  In  places,  especially  near  their  breeding 
grounds,  I  have  seen  the  prairie  fairly  white  with 
them. 

But  their  breeding  grounds? — that  is  the  ques- 
tion. It  is  their  habit,  according  to  accounts, 
to  congregate  in  immense  numbers  in  some  large 
shallow  lake  and  build  floating  nests  amid  the 
grass  and  reeds  that  grow  out  of  the  water.  There 
are  certainly  not  many  of  these  colonies  within 
our  borders.  There  may  not  be  more  than  one 
or  two  in  all  Dakota,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  so 
many  birds  are  wandering  about.  Many  a  time  I 
have  watched  them  as  they  came  drifting  over  the 
prairie,  ever  on  the  move,  and  have  longed  to 
know  whither  they  were  journeying.  I  could  not 
locate  their  breeding  ground  from  the  direction  of 
their  flight,  so  I  wrote  to  different  parts  of  the  state, 
and  questioned  every  Indian  or  hunter  that  I  met, 
but  it  was  of  no  use. 

At  length,  through  hearsay  and  rumor,  I  traced 
out  the  fact  that  a  year  or  two  before  great  num- 
bers of  these  Gulls  had  nested  in  a  large,  deep 
slough,  north  of  Devil's  Lake.  The  Sioux  Indians, 
it  was  said,  were  accustomed  to  go  there  and  cart 
away  eggs  by  the  bushel.  I  reached  the  spot  after 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 

a  considerable  wagon  journey  only  to  find  that  the 
Gulls  had  been  so  persecuted  that  they  had  not 
returned  that  season,  but  had  moved  off  somewhere 
else.  This  was  very  disappointing,  and  to  this  trial 
was  added  being  caught  on  the  return  trip  in  the 
most  terrific  thunderstorm  I  was  ever  out  in5  or  ever 
wish  to  be.  The  wind  blew  over  houses,  and  the 
rain  almost  filled  the  body  of  the  wagon.  If  ever 
we  were  soaked  it  was  then.  We  had  to  sleep  in  a 
barn  that  night  and  two  nights  more  ere  we  got 
back  to  headquarters.  Much  further  search  had 
already  been  in  vain. 

This  only  served  to  whet  my  desire  the  more 
for  the  Franklin's  Gull,  and  when  I  decided  last 
season  to  visit  Dakota  again,  I  redoubled  my  in- 
quiries. Finally  I  heard  of  a  young  man  who  prob- 
ably had  the  desired  information.  Imagine  my 
delight  when  I  received  one  day  a  note  to  the  effect 
that  he  knew  of  a  large  colony  of  thousands  of  the 
Franklin's  Gull,  and  would  guide  me  there  if  I 
would  come  to  his  house. 

At  the  earliest  possible  moment  we  started  off, 
three  of  us,  with  broncos  and  buckboard, — this 
time  without  the  boat, — for  the  drive  of  fifty  miles. 
The  site  the  Gulls  had  chosen  was  at  one  end  of  a 
large  lake  a  number  of  miles  long.  At  length  we 
approached  the  timber  on  its  margin.  On  the  left 
a  settler  was  ploughing,  and  about  twenty  Gulls 
were  following  him  close  behind,  and  feeding  in 
the  furrows.  On  the  right,  down  a  steep  bank,  lay 
the  lake,  a  long  area,  over  a  mile  wide,  with  some 
open  water  and  grass  growing  from  it  in  extended 
tracts_.  The  distant  murmur  of  many  bird-voices 

159 


£3 

ES 

3  J° 

w  z 


w  v 

1! 


w  •*• 

22  w 

t*  Z 

^  o 


CO 


1 60 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 


came  to  our  ears,  and  we  could  see  hundreds  of 
the  Gulls  in  the  air  out  over  the  middle  of  the  lake. 
By  the  time  the  others  had  pitched  camp  in  the 
timber  our  young  guide  and  I  had  secured  a  boat, 
of  which  he  knew,  and  we  all  sallied  out,  poling 
through  the  grass.  We  passed  various  Coots'  nests 
and  hovering  parties  of  Black  Terns,  when  about 
quarter  of  a  mile  out,  crossing  a  wide  lane  of  open 
water,  we  approached  a  tract  of  the  long,  coarse 
grass  growing  out  of  four  or  five  feet  of  water, 
where  the  colony  began.  Not  a  great  many  Gulls 
had  been  in  sight,  but  now  they  began  to  rise  from 
the  grass,  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  them,  yes, 
thousands.  The  clamor  of  the  nearer  ones  started 
those  farther  along,  and  even  away  off  in  the  dis- 
tance we  could  see  clouds  of  fluttering  white  wings. 
The  nearer  ones  immediately  came  toward  us,  and 
hovered  screaming  over  our  heads.  The  scene,  as 
far  as  number  of  birds  was  concerned,  was  the 
only  one  I  have 
witnessed  that 
could  rival  Bird 
Rock.  At  times 
part  of  the  mul- 
titu  d  e  would 
come  together  in 
an  unusually 
compact  mass, 
and  circle  about 


us. 


Here    were 


'  HERE  WERE  THE  NESTS,  RUDE   FLOATING   PLATFORMS 
OF  DEAD  GRASS  STEMS."     NEST  OF  FRANKLIN'S  GULL 


the    nests,    rude    floating    platforms    of    dead    grass 
stems,    only      slightly     hollowed,     a     few     feet     or 

161 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

yards  apart,  everywhere  through  the  grass.  The 
date  was  the  25th  of  June,  and  most  of  the  eggs 
had  hatched.  Tiny  young  Gulls  in  a  mottled, 
downy  plumage  were  paddling  through  the  grass 
in  all  directions.  Our  conductor  had  been  here 
about  the  25th  of  May  and  had  found  all  the  nests 


PAIR  OF  FRANKLIN'S  GULLS  ON  THEIR  NEST,  WHICH  CONTAINS  ONE  EGG; 
TWO  OTHER  EGGS,  PROBABLY,  HAD  HATCHED  AND  THE  YOUNG 
SWUM  OFF 

with  full  fresh  sets,  usually  of  three  eggs.  Very 
few  nests  now  had  three,  but  quite  a  number  had 
one  or  two,  probably  either  second  layings  or  where 
part  of  the  set  had  hatched  and  the  young  had  swum 
of?.  The  eggs  were  like  those  of  all  Gulls  in  color 
and  markings,  in  size  about  half  way  between  the 
eggs  of  the  Common  Tern  and  the  Ring -billed 

162 


THE    WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 

Gull.  One  of  the  first  nests  we  noticed  had  two 
eggs  notably  smaller  than  any  of  the  others.  We 
thought  there  might  be  a  pair  of  Bonaparte's  Gulls 
among  the  Franklin's,  but  to  our  eyes  the  excited, 
hovering  creatures  all  looked  exactly  alike.  They 
were  plenty  near  enough  for  observation,  hovering 
fearlessly  only  a  few  yards  away  from  us. 

We  spent  three  more  days  by  and  among  the 
colony,  and,  despite  daily  showers,  I  was  able  to 
observe  and  photograph  them  very  satisfactorily. 
At  times  I  took  the  boat  alone,  and  quietly  floated 
in  the  grass,  with  nests  all  around  me.  I  believe  I 
could  stay  there  for  weeks  and  enjoy  associating 
with  those  beautiful  birds.  They  were  so  tame 
they  would  alight  on  their  nests  when  I  was  within 
ten  feet  of  them,  and  I  took  various  snap-shots  with 
the  camera  held  in  my  hands.  Some  of  them  were 
incubating,  many  others  standing  on  empty  nests, 
from  which  the  young  had  swum  off,  usually  to 
return  as  soon  as  confidence  was  restored.  But,  as 
nearly  as  I  could  decide,  the  young  were  not  at 
all  particular  as  to  just  which  nest  they  resorted  to. 
Some  mothers  would  have  but  one  chick,  others  at 
times  half  a  dozen.  Often  the  "one  ewe  lamb" 
would  swim  off  to  another  nest,  to  be  just  as  hos- 
pitably entertained.  In  some  cases  the  old  bird 
would  fly  at  the  departing  youngster  and  make 
vigorous  efforts  to  head  it  back  again,  usually  with- 
out success.  It  would  seem  that  the  tribe,  to  a 
considerable  extent,  uhad  all  things  common." 
Now  and  then  groups  of  the  adults  would  gather 
in  a  little  open  pool  of  water  and  swim  about,  but 
the  nests  seemed  to  be  the  especial  places  of  resort. 

163 


THE   WHITE -WINGED    FLEET 

Even  at  this  late  date  various  members  of  the  col- 
ony were  flying  in  with  long  streamers  of  grass  in 
their  bills  for  the  repair  of  their  nests,  that  they 
might  continue  to  serve  them  as  roosting  places. 


A    FRANKLIN'S   GULL  FAMILY    SCENE 


During  these  days  we  carefully  explored  the 
whole  colony.  It  seemed  mainly  to  lie  within  half 
a  square  mile,  comprising  three  main  areas,  one  in 
the  middle  of  the  lake  and  two  nearer  either  shore, 
separated  from  the  central  portion  by  lanes  of  open 
water.  There  were  other  subsidiary  parts  as  well, 
making  the  occupied  area  of  considerable  size.  As 
a  rough  and  very  conservative  estimate  we  placed 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 


the  probable  number  of  Gulls  at  about  five  thou- 
sand, though  one  of  the  party  thought  it  was 
nearer  ten  thousand.  Whatever  it  was  it  is  a  won- 
derful sight,  and  those  days  spent  there  in  camp 
will  be  of  fragrant  memory.  At  night  I  would 
look  out  over  the  moon-lit  expanse  and  hear  the 
clamor  of  the  colony  that  appeared  to  cease  not 
day  nor  night.  Possibly  at  night  the  Musk-rats  or 
Minks  were  disturbing  them. 

This  lake  was  a  wonderful  center  for  bird-life. 
Besides  Coots,  Rails,  Night  Herons,  Bitterns,  large 
numbers  of  Ducks,  and  about  a  thousand  of  vari- 
ous kinds  of  Grebes,  some  of  them  in  colonies,  we 
estimated  that  there  were  something  like  a  thousand 
Black  Terns  breeding.  These  we  found  hovering 
in  flocks  wherever  we  went  in  the  area  of  water- 
growing  grass 
that  extended  in 
a  wide  border 
out  from  the 
shore  all  around 
the  lake  as  far 
as  we  went.  It 
was  not  hard  to 
find  their  nests, 
which  were  little 
mounds  floating 
in  partial  open- 
ings amid  the 
grass.  They  were  not  close  together,  but  in  oc- 
casional little  communities,  being  placed  there  a 
few  yards,  or  even  rods,  apart,  perhaps  a  dozen  or 
so  to  a  group.  Two  eggs  are  usually  laid,  some- 

166 


"IT  WAS  NOT  HARD  TO  FIND  THEIR  NESTS,  WHICH 
WERE  LITTLE  MOUNDS  FLOATING  IN  PARTIAL 
OPENINGS  AMID  THE  GRASS."  NEST  OF  BLACK 
TERN 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 

times  three,  and  in  one  case  I  found  four.  They 
are  very  heavily  marked  and  scrawled  with  black, 
so  much  so  as  almost  to  hide  the  ground-color. 
These  little  Terns  are  late  in  breeding.  At  this 
time  many  of  the  eggs  were  quite  fresh,  and  some 
of  the  sets  were  incomplete,  though  there  were 
some  young  swimming  about  in  the  grass,  after 
the  fashion  of  their  family. 

They  are  bold  and  noisy  little  fellows,  especially 
when  they  consider  that  their  rights  are  being  tres- 
passed upon.  On  one  occasion,  after  photograph- 
ing a  nest  with  three  incubated  eggs,  I  noticed 
some  young  in  the  water,  and,  climbing  out  of 
the  boat,  waded  after  them.  The  water  was  just 
up  to  the  top  of  my  boots,  and  I  found  that  I 
must  hold  these  up  to  keep  dry.  Then  the  mother- 
bird  made  at  me  with  all  her  might.  With  angry 
swoops  she  kept  striking  me  most  vicious  blows 
on  the  top  of  the  head  with  her  sharp  little  bill. 
At  first  I  laughed,  but  I  had  on  only  a  very  thin  cap, 
and  having  to  hold  up  my  boot-tops  all  the  time,  I 
could  not  protect  myself.  Finally  my  head  pained 
me  so  that  it  was  no  laughing  matter,  and  I  actually 
had  to  beat  an  inglorious  retreat  and  climb  into 
the  boat, —  a  man  worsted  by  a  tiny  little  bird  with 
nothing  but  a  bill  for  a  weapon.  For  all  that,  I 
could  not  be  angry  at  the  little  mother,  but  ad- 
mired her  courage  and  strength.  It  made  me 
think  what  would  be  the  result  if  all  the  birds  in 
that  teeming  slough  should  combine  for  a  bold 
attack  on  the  visiting  ornithologists. 

This  little  Black  Tern  is  one  of  the  most 
typical  birds  of  the  Dakota  prairies.  Almost  never 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

have  I  approached  a  grassy  slough  in  the  breed- 
ing-season without  finding  them  in  evidence,  and 
wherever  one  drives  on  the  bare  dry  prairie,  sooner 
or  later  the  little  dark  friend  is  almost  sure  to  put 
in  an  appearance. 

For  convenience,  though  it  is  not  scientifically 
one  of  the  Gulls,  I  may,  in  this  connection,  speak 
of  a  bird  that  is  related  to  them,  and  in  some  ways 
resembles  them, —  the  great  White  Pelican.  I  have 
never  discovered  their  breeding-place  in  Dakota, 
which  is  said  to  be  some  low  island  in  a  lake, 
where  they  lay  three  or  four  great  white  eggs  in  a 
hollow  in  the  sand.  But  we  found  them  frequent- 
ing most  of  the  large  lakes  that  we  visited.  The 
size  of  the  bird  is  impressive.  I  think  that,  per- 
haps excepting  the  Swan,  it  is  decidedly  the  biggest 
bird  of  North  America.  It  is  nearly  as  tall  as  a 
man,  has  a  stout,  heavy  body,  and  enormous  bill, 
and  a  stretch  of  wings  of  between  eight  and  nine 
feet.  Riding  out  on  the  lake,  they  look  almost 
like  yachts  at  anchor.  Such  size  makes  them  ap- 
pear near  even  when  they  are  really  far  out  from 
shore.  It  was  a  fine  sight  one  day  when  I  saw 
seventy  of  them  in  a  V-shaped  flock,  soar  over  a 
lake  and  circle  down  till  they  rested  upon  the 
water. 

One  of  our  company  was  anxious  to  secure  a 
Pelican  for  his  cabinet,  and  at  last  he  saw  a  chance 
to  approach  one  perched  on  a  rock  a  little  way 
out  in  the  lake.  A  calf  that  was  determined  to 
follow  him  and  see  the  sport  very  nearly  prevented 
his  success,  but  he  managed  to  stalk  and  secure 
the  great  bird.  It  was  a  sight  indeed  to  see  him 

1 68 


THE   WHITE-WINGED    FLEET 

return  to  camp  with  the  load  upon  his  back. 
When  he  photographed  his  booty,  hanging  by  the 
tent,  I  felt  insignificant  standing  beside  the  great 
creature.  And  when,  early  next  morning,  the  skin 
was  removed,  there  seemed  to  be  enough  of  it 
to  make  a  good-sized  blanket. 


169 


PART    V 

WILD-FOWL   OF  WILD-FOWL 

(Ducks    and   Geese) 

THOUGH  the  term  wild-fowl  is  variously  and 
loosely  applied,  there  is  no  class  of  birds  it  better 
fits  in  its  suggestive  savor  of  wild,  free  Nature, 
than  that  called  by  naturalists  the  "Anatidae." 
Whatever  are  or  are  not  wild-fowl,  Ducks  and 
Geese  are.  There  are  few  birds  that  reveal  more 
their  inherent  wildness  in  retiring  before  the 
advances  of  human  civilization.  How  often  has 
my  gaze  wandered  wistfully  over  the  surface  of 
some  beautiful  New  England  lake,  searching  for 
what  was  not  there,  some  water-fowl  floating 
upon  the  surface.  There  were  the  lilies,  the  woods, 
the  surrounding  hills, — all  the  elements  of  a  beau- 
tiful landscape,  save  this  alone, — and  a  sad  lack 
it  is.  But  in  some  of  the  newer  states  of  the  north- 
west it  is  very  different.  There  man  has  been  too 
busy  in  reclaiming  and  beautifying  his  own  home- 
spot  to  disturb  the  innocent  home-life  of  his  wild- 
fowl neighbors. 

None  of  my  many  bird-adventures  have  made 
deeper  impression  upon  me  than  those  of  my  first 
season  spent  in  studying  the  breeding  habits  of  the 
Ducks  and  Geese  in  the  Dakota  wilds.  Though  I 
had  read  wonderful  tales  of  that  region's  bird-life, 
it  proved  to  be  one  of  those  pleasant  surprises,  all 
too  uncommon,  where  the  actual  equals  expecta- 

170 


WILD-FOWL     OF     WILD-FOWL 

tion.  Even  from  the  car-window,  on  a  branch  rail- 
road in  North  Dakota,  as  I  neared  my  destination  I 
saw  the  Ducks  flying  out  from  a  series  of  shallow 
sloughs,  alarmed  at  the  approach  of  the  tri-weekly 
train.  It  was  the  tenth  of  May,  and  there  were 
scores  of  them  just  settling  down  to  the  annual  task 
of  nest-building.  So  near  were  they  to  the  train 
that  without  the  field-glass  I  could  easily  distinguish 
Mallards,  Shovellers,  Pintails  and  Blue-winged  Teal. 

Not  many  miles  beyond  this  favored  spot  my 
friend  and  I  disembarked,  and  soon  were  driving 
out  from  the  little  town  along  a  level  prairie  road, 
bordered  by  dark  fields,  some  of  which  were  already 
delicately  greened  with  the  sprouting  wheat.  Close 
by  the  humble  home  of  a  settler,  on  the  right,  was 
a  little  pond  covering  less  than  an  acre  of  ground, 
convenient  for  his  cattle.  And  there  were  evidently 
his  barnyard  fowl,  a  flock  of  Ducks,  enjoying  their 
favorite  element.  But  what  did  it  mean  ?  Just  as 
we  drove  by,  there  was  a  sudden  whistling  of  wings, 
and  away  they  went,  wild  Ducks, — the  same  kinds 
we  had  seen  from  the  train, — feeding  within  a  few 
rods  of  the  barn! 

About  six  miles  further  on  we  approached  the 
house  where  we  were  to  stay  over  night.  Here,  too, 
a  pond  was  prominent,  right  by  the  turn  of  the 
driveway,  and  it,  likewise,  had  its  Ducks,  twenty  or 
more  of  them.  A  Willet  standing  on  the  shore 
uttered  his  customary  note  of  alarm,  and  they  were 
oflf ;  but  by  the  time  we  looked  back  from  the 
house,  there  they  were  again,  having  circled  back 
and  alit.  From  the  parlor-window  I  could  see 
them  so  clearly  with  the  glass  as  to  be  able  to  iden- 

171 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

tify  every  one,  and  note  each  motion.  Some  were 
paddling  about,  others  were  pluming  themselves 
on  the  shore,  but  they  all  kept  in  pairs,  as  they  did 
also  when  they  flew.  Among  them  was  one  pair 
of  Green-winged  Teal,  a  species  that  is  very  scarce 
in  Dakota  in  the  breeding  season. 

The  next  morning  I  was  out  at  the  break  of 
day,  even  before  it  was  light  enough  to  see  the 
birds.  I  soon  found  a  series  of  small  sloughs  which 
were  just  full  of  Ducks.  Each  slough  that  I  ap- 
proached gave  forth  a  score  or  so  of  searchers  for 
breakfast  and  the  early  worm.  That  unfortunate 
creature  this  morning  must  have  felt  sluggish  and 
indisposed,  for  it  had  been  cold  enough  during  the 
night  to  skim  the  sloughs  over  with  ice  near  the 
shores.  The  muddy  flats  had  also  an  icy  crust,  and 
my  first  exploit  while  trying  to  wade  one  was  to  trip 
on  this  crust  and  pitch  headlong.  To  save  myself, 
I  naturally  put  out  my  arms,  and  in  up  to  the 
shoulders  they  went  in  the  cold,  wet  ooze!  The 
Ducks  quacked  loudly,  as  if  mocking,  and  I  fear  I 
should  have  lost  my  temper,  but  for  so  many  inter- 
esting things  that  made  wet  clothes  and  a  mud- 
plaster  trifles  not  worthy  of  interrupting  the  pleasant 
chain  of  thought. 

A  walk  of  about  a  mile  from  here  brought  us  to 
a  larger  and  more  open  lake.  Large  flocks  of  Ducks 
of  various  kinds  were  resting  upon  its  surface,  and  a 
pair  of  Great  Marbled  Godwits  were  feeding  on  the 
prairie  near  the  margin.  A  very  tall  bird  stood  on 
the  shore,  with  long  neck  extended,  taking  note  of 
our  approach.  We  thought  it  was  a  Sand-hill  Crane, 
but,  when  it  swam  out  into  the  lake,  we  perceived 

172 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

that  it  was  a  Canada  Goose.  We  learned  from  a 
neighboring  settler  that  Geese  usually  bred  in  the 
vicinity,  so  we  began  the  exploration  of  an  adjacent 
large  tract  of  rushes,  back  from  the  shore,  hoping 
to  discover  the  nest  of  this  bird.  The  search  at 
length  brought  me  out  to  the  shore  again,  near  a 
projecting  point  of  land.  As  I  came  around  the 
rather  steep  shore  of  the  point,  what  was  my  amaze- 
ment to  come  right  upon  a  flock  of  Geese  sitting 
on  the  beach,  not  twenty  paces  off.  Eighteen  of 
them  were  the  common  wild  Canada  Goose;  the 
other  four  were  beautiful  creatures,  snow-white  all 
over,  save  for  the  black  outer  half  of  the  wings — 
Snow  Geese — one  of  the  last  of  the  migratory  flocks 
that  had  been  pouring  through  the  state  on  their 
way  to  the  far  north.  It  is  hard  to  tell  which  felt 
the  more  surprise,  the  Geese  or  the  intruder.  For 
an  instant  they  stood  as  though  paralyzed,  then 
sprang  into  the  air  and  flew  off  with  loud  honkings. 
The  Snow  Geese  went  by  themselves  out  over  the 
lake  and  the  others  made  a  circle  or  two  till  they 
had  mounted  quite  high,  and  then,  in  their  usual 
wedge-shaped  order,  steered  their  course  for  the 
north. 

Just  a  week  later,  with  the  same  companion,  I 
started  out  on  a  six-weeks'  camping  tour.  Two 
fine  horses  drew  a  stout  open  double  buggy,  on  the 
back  part  of  which  was  loaded  a  tent  and  a  complete 
camp  outfit.  We  drove  forty  miles  north  and  west 
that  first  day,  and  at  night,  as  it  began  to  rain,  in- 
stead of  pitching  the  tent,  we  secured  permission  to 
sleep  in  the  hay-loft  of  a  two-story  frame  barn  be- 
longing to  a  Norwegian  family — the  only  barn,  save 

'74 


WILD-FOWL     OF     WILD-FOWL 

shacks,  that  we  had  seen  in  many  miles.  There  we 
made  ourselves  comfortable,  getting  supper  with 
our  little  oil  stove  and  then  turning  in  for  rest.  It 
must  be  confessed  that  our  sleep  was  none  of  the 
soundest.  Down  below  were  cows  and  calves,  horses 
and  colts,  pigs  and  sheep,  dogs  and  poultry,  and 
noises  of  various  kinds  were  incessant.  Around  us 
rats  were  perambulating,  and  a  cat  was  making  suc- 
cessful sallies  from  time  to  time,  while  a  shrill- 
voiced  cockerel  on  the  beam  above  us  had  evi- 
dently decided  that  sleep  was  not  to  be  allowed. 

All  night  the  rain  poured  down  on  the  roof  like 
an  avalanche,  and  in  the  morning  continued  una- 
bated. There  was  nothing  to  do  but  make  another 
day  of  it — a  rather  dreary  prospect.  My  disappoint- 
ment, however,  was  tempered  by  the  fact  that  the 
evening  before  we  had  passed  a  small  slough,  only 
five  minutes'  walk  from  the  barn,  that  seemed  to  be 
full  of  Ducks.  So,  after  breakfast,  I  donned  boots 
and  mackintosh,  and  set  out  for  it  with  one  of  the 
Norwegian  boys,  who  told  me  that  last  year  a  pair 
of  wild  Geese  had  raised  a  brood  on  top  of  a  Musk- 
rat  house  in  this  slough,  and  that  he  thought  they 
were  there  again.  As  we  approached  a  whole  cloud 
of  Ducks  flew  up,  and  I  noticed  many  interesting 
Waders  along  the  margin.  The  first  thing  was  to 
look  for  the  Goose  nest.  I  waded  out,  up  to  my 
boot-tops,  to  the  several  u  houses,"  but  there  was 
no  sign  of  it.  Then  we  took  a  turn  along  the  shore, 
passing  through  a  tract  of  reeds  up  from  the  edge. 
Suddenly,  without  warning,  a  female  Pintail  fluttered 
out  almost  from  under  our  feet  and  rapidly  disap- 
peared in  the  blinding  rain.  In  a  little  hollow,  shel- 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 


tered  by  the  reeds,  she  had  built  her  nest  of  reed- 
stems  and  grass,  lined  profusely  with  down  plucked 
from  her  breast,  and  laid  nine  fresh  eggs  of  a  yel- 
lowish olive  hue  —  my  first  Dakota  Duck's  eggs! 

I  had  already  noticed  a  fine  male  Canvasback 
swimming  among  some  clumps  of  reeds,  well  out 
in  the  water.  I  decided  to  wade  there,  letting  the 
boy  beat  along  the  shore.  The  Canvasback  had 
disappeared,  but  when  I  got  out  not  far  from  where 
I  had  seen  him,  I  heard  a  sudden  splashing  and 
beating  of  wings,  and  the  same  instant  saw  a  large 
Duck,  that  I  recognized  as  a  female  Canvasback, 

fluttering  over 
the  water  ten  or 
fifteen  yards 
ahead  of  me.  I 
was  soon  there, 
and  found  in  a 
little  clump  of 
reeds  a  sort  of 
semi  -  floating 
"ark  of  bul- 
rushes," lined 
with  an  abund- 
ance of  whitish 
down,  and  ten  large  eggs  of  a  sort  of  dark  leaden 
color,  a  hue  produced  by  no  bird  but  a  Canvas- 
back.  This  mother  had  begun  her  work  earlier 
than  her  Pintail  neighbor,  for  her  eggs  seemed 
considerably  incubated. 

The  weather  cleared  during  the  night,  and  the 
next  day,  with  a  bracing  northwest  wind,  we  drove 
thirty  miles  further  to  a  fine  large  lake,  and,  pitch- 


"  I  WAS  SOON  THERE,  AND  FOUND  IN  A  LITTLE  CLUMP 
OF  REEDS  A  SORT  OF  SEMI- FLOATING  'ARK  OF 
BULRUSHES,'  LINED  WITH  .  ,  .  WHITISH  DOWN." 
NEST  OF  THE  CANVASBACK 


WiLD-FoWL     OF     WILD-FOWL 

ing  our  camp  in  a  grove  of  timber  on  the  shore, 
for  several  days  found  many  interesting  things  to 
investigate.  A  few  miles  back  from  the  lake  was 
a  rushy,  grass-grown  slough  that  supported  a  mar- 
vellous variety  of  Ducks.  It  was  a  mile  and  a 
half  long,  and,  as  we  put  up  the  horses  in  a  sod 
barn  near  the  shore,  and  saw  some  Gadwalls,  Bald- 
pates,  Blue-winged  Teals,  Shovellers,  Mallards,  and 
Pintails  feeding  near-by,  down  where  the  cows 
drank,  I  realized  what  a  wonderful  place  it  was. 
The  water  was  too  deep  to  wade,  except  at  the 
lower  end  of  the  slough,  and  the  only  boat  had 
been  burned  in  a  prairie  fire.  For  all  that,  I  saw 
enough  birds.  Pairs  of  Ruddy  Ducks  were  swim- 
ming among  the  reeds,  holding  their  tails  erect,  as 
is  their  unique  fashion.  By  this  habit  they  can  be 
distinguished  from  any  of  the  other  Ducks.  The 
male,  at  this  season,  is  very  striking  in  his  bright 
reddish  coat  and  pale -blue  bill.  Eared,  Horned 
and  Pied  -  billed  Grebes,  and  Coots,  were  every- 
where near  neighbors  of  the  Ruddies.  Farther 
out  there  were  the  Greater  and  Lesser  Scaups,  in 
pairs,  also  very  many  pairs  of  Redheads,  and,  most 
conspicuous  of  all,  Canvasback  couples  that  were 
floating  about  in  the  more  open  lanes  and  areas  of 
water.  In  one  place  where  I  stood  I  counted 
eleven  pairs  of  Canvasbacks,  and  one  solitary  male, 
whose  mate  had  doubtless  already  begun  her  month- 
long  vigil  somewhere  in  one  of  the  reedy  clumps. 
A  pair  of  Pintails  were  busy  on  the  prairie,  near 
the  margin,  and  I  found  they  were  scratching  a 
hollow  that  was  to  be  their  nest.  Wherever  I  went 
pairs  or  parties  of  all  these  species  of  Ducks  that 

177 


AMONG   THE    WATER    FOWL 


I  have  mentioned  kept  flying  up,  or  were  out  in 
the  water  within  sight.  Thus  there  were  eleven 
species  of  wild  Ducks  in  that  one  locality,  and  all 
of  them  in  good  numbers.  This  is  a  Dakota  duck- 
slough  at  its  best. 

After  a  quiet  Sunday  in  camp,  our  party  being 
increased  to  four  by  a  local  guide  and  a  visiting 
ornithologist,  we  made  a  trip  to  the  "Enchanted 
Isles, n  described  in  preceding  pages.  It  was  the 
23d  of  May,  beautiful,  calm,  and  bright.  We  carted 
a  boat  on  a  buckboard,  and  visited  each  of  the 
four  islands,  finding  plenty  of  eggs  of  Cormorants 
and  Ring-bills  and  a  few  scattering  nests  of  Pin- 
tails, Gadwalls  and  Mallards  —  most  of  the  Ducks 
having  not  yet  nested.  But  there  were  some  dis- 
coveries that  I  must  describe  in  detail.  We  had 
been  but  a  short  time  on  the  Cormorant  Island 

when  the  guide 
called  out  to  me. 
It  was  but  a  few 
steps  to  where 
he  stood,  by  a 
clump  of  tall  dry 
weeds.  In  the 
midst  of  them 
was  a  great  bed 
of  stems  and 
grass,  lined  with 
an  abundance  of 
white  down,  that  seemed  to  fill  the  nest.  But  there 
was  something  else  white !  Pulling  aside  the  down 
we  found  disclosed  to  view  six  enormous  chalky- 
white  eggs,  each  as  big  as  two  or  three  Duck's 


"PULLING  ASIDE  THE  DOWN,  WE  FOUND  DISCLOSED 
TO  VIEW  SIX  ENORMOUS  CHALKY-WHITE  EGGS" 
NEST  OF  THE  (WILD)  CANADA  GOOSE 


WILD-FOWL     OF     WlLD-FoWL 

eggs.  It  was  a  nest  of  the  Canada  Goose.  We 
had  heard  Geese  honking  as  we  approaced  the  isl- 
and, and  had  seen  at  least  one  making  off.  Here 
was  the  buried  treasure  they  had  hoped  would  be 
unobserved.  I  had  always  thought  of  the  wild 
Geese  as  breeding  only  in  the  far  north.  This  was 
the  first  nest  of  this  sort  that  I  had  ever  seen,  and 
it  would  be  hard  to  describe  the  feelings  with 
which  I 'viewed  it.  It  seemed  as  though  I  were 
in  a  trackless  wilderness,  perhaps  very  near  the 
pole,  except  that  the  sun  was  too  warm  for  such 
high  latitude.  At  any  rate,  I  had  the  delightful 
sense  of  boreal  adventure  without  its  hardships. 

We  saw  nothing  of  the  owners  of  the  nest,  so, 
after  photographing  it,  we  proceeded  to  the  second 
island,  where  we  actually  found  another  Goose  nest 
in  a  short  time.  This  one  held  five  eggs  and  was 
situated  in  short  grass  —  a  sort  of  lawn  it  was  —  just 
back  from  the  bank,  on  the  higher  part  of  the 
island,  overlooking  the  lake.  It  seemed  a  rather 
conspicuous  place  for  the  great  bird  to  sit  with  so 
little  cover,  but  no  doubt  she  squatted  close  enough 
when  danger  was  near,  if,  indeed,  she  allowed  any- 
one to  approach  within  observing  distance  while  she 
was  there.  This  nest  was  very  slight,  being  little 
more  than  a  hollow  lined  with  down. 

There  was  no  Goose  nest  on  the  third  island, 
but  we  discovered  another  on  the  last  that  had 
evidently  been  rifled.  It  was  a  rude  pile  of  grass 
and  down,  placed  near  one  end  of  the  island,  at  the 
top  of  a  gravel-spit,  among  some  weeds.  Out  at 
the  extremity  of  the  spit,  as  we  approached,  we 
saw  the  two  Geese  standing  with  outstretched 

179 


AMONG  THE   WATER    FOWL 

necks.  Great  birds  they  were,  and  too  wary  to 
be  approached. 

From  here  we  drove  northwest,  away  up  to  the 
international  boundary,  exploring  some  large  lakes 
eastward  from  the  Turtle  Mountain  region.  On  the 
30th  of  May  we  reached  Rock  Lake  and  pitched  the 
tent  on  the  prairie  close  to  the  stony  shore.  By  this 
time  more  of  the  Ducks  had  laid.  I  was  particu- 
larly fortunate  there  in  finding  Blue-winged  Teals' 
nests.  The  morning  after  our  arrival  I  was  rowing 
on  the  lake,  and  happened  to  land  on  a  sort  of  pen- 
insula formed  on  one  side  by  a  marshy  bayou.  The 
land  was  broken  and  rolling,  but  near  the  shore  it 
was  flat,  almost  marshy,  and  covered  with  very  pro- 
fuse dry  grass  of  the  previous  year's  growth  that 
had  escaped  the  prairie  fires.  My  companion  al- 
most trod  on  a  Western  Meadow  Lark  that  left  her 
arched  nest  in  the  grass  and  six  eggs  for  our  inspec- 
tion. Just  after  this  I  was  returning  to  the  boat, 
when  —  spring,  flutter — away  went  a  Blue-winged 
Teal  from  the  long  grass  at  my  very  feet.  It  took 
me  but  a  second  to  reach  the  spot,  and,  parting  the 
grass,  I  gazed  into  my  first  Teal's  nest,  with  its  ten 
small,  creamy  eggs,  well  spattered  with  excrement, 
which  the  bird  dropped  as  she  flew.  I  afterwards 
found  that  this  last  is  the  usual  occurrence  when  a 
Duck  is  surprised  and  flushed  from  her  eggs.  This 
nest  was  well  down  in  the  thick  dry  grass,  and  would 
have  been  practically  impossible  to  discover  without 
flushing  the  bird/  It  was  built  in  a  hollow  in  the 
ground,  of  dry  grass,  with  which  the  abundant  dark 
gray  down  that  lined  it  was  more  or  less  mixed. 

After  a  few  minutes  we  started  on  again,  and 

1 80 


. 

u  o 

«  h 

^  o 

II 

- 


181 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 


THIS   FIRST   DAY   OF   JUNE    I    ALSO   FOUND    MY 
FIRST    MALLARDS'    NESTS" 


had  gone  but  a  few  steps  when  another  Teal  flashed 
at  close  quarters,  and  I  soon  found  the  nest,  similar 
to  the  last,  with  a  set  of  nine  eggs.  In  the  same 
way  we  found  three  more  Teals'  nest  in  this  tract, 

five  in  all. 

The  first  day 
of  June  I  also 
found  my  first 
Mallards'  nests. 
One  was  on  a  lit- 
tle hummock,  in 
a  tussock  of 
grass,  a  little 
way  out  in  the 
water  where  the 
lake  shore  was  marshy,  the  big  bird  springing 
forth  with  a  bound  into  the  air  when  I  was  per- 
haps fifteen  yards  away.  The  nest  Was  quite  sub- 
stantial and  well  lined,  and  held  ten  yellowish  drab 
eggs,  slightly  tinged  with  green.  The  other  nest 
was  on  an  island  in  front  of  our  camp,  placed  in 
a  thicket  of  trees  and  b.ushes.  The  first  time  the 
Duck  flushed  I  could  hardly  get  a  glimpse  of  her, 
so  I  came  again  later  in  the  day,  and,  approaching 
carefully,  easily  identified  the  nine  eggs,  that,  like 
the  others,  were  quite  fresh. 

A  few  days  later  we  drove  on,  still  eastward, 
over  a  most  desolate,  mainly  uninhabited  prairie, 
to  Rush  Lake,  which  I  have  already  described. 
On  one  part  of  its  shore  a  fire  had  burned  over  a 
large  tract  of  grass  and  rushes,  and  I  saw  quite  a 
number  of  nests  of  scorched  Ducks'  eggs  exposed 
to  view.  I  shall  remember  this  great  prairie  lake 

182 


WiLD-FoWL     OF     WlLD-FoWI 

as  the  place  where  I  found  two  Ducks'  nests  new 
to  me.  After  going  over  the  burnt  tract  I  pulled 
up  the  tops  of  my  boots  and  waded  along  the 
shore,  some  rods  out,  among  clumps  of  long  grass. 
Away  went  a  brownish  Duck,  with  grey  wings, 
from  a  tussock  a  little  beyond  me, —  a  Redhead,  I 
saw  at  once.  There  was  a  very  large  basket-nest 
of  dry  rushes, 
lined  with  down, 
and  a  no  less  size- 
able assortment 
of  eggs,  fifteen 
of  them  I  finally 
counted.  Each 
egg,  too,  was 
large,  nearly 
white,  with  a 
faint  greenish 
tinge  and  a  shell  so  smooth  and  hard  as  to  remind 
one  of  a  billiard  ball.  Altogether  it  was  a  large  and 
interesting  discovery. 

At  this  point  I  waded  ashore  and  had  no  sooner 
set  foot  on  dry  land  than  a  Blue-winged  Teal  flushed 
from  the  prairie  grass,  and  I  found  her  eight  fresh 
eggs  m  a  nest  of  grass  and  down  similar  to  those 
already  found.  From  this  spot  I  had  gone  but  a 
short  distance,  when  out  went  another  Teal,  and 
directly  I  was  inspecting  eight  eggs  more.  Hav- 
ing by  this  time  rested  a  little,  I  again  tried  wad- 
ing, and  very  soon  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  a 
female  Shoveler  unwillingly  flutter  out  from  some 
very  thick  grass  near  me.  I  had  been  told  that 
this  species  usually  nested  on  the  dry  prairie, 


NEST  OF  REDHEAD 


184 


WiLD-FoWL    OF     WlLD-FoWL 

but  here  was  evidently  a  nest  out  over  the  water. 
For  some  time  I  pawed  over  that  grass  in  vain, 
and  began  to  think  I  was  mistaken,  when  a  piece 
of  down  climging  to  a  blade  of  grass  caught  my 
eye.  Under  it  was  the  nest,  at  the  very  bottom 
of  the  high  tussock.  The  grass  met  over  it  with- 
out showing  any  opening  whatever.  I  should  never 
have  found  it  without  flushing  the  bird.  There 
were  ten  fresh  eggs,  yellowish  white,  the  color  of 
the  Teals',  but  larger. 

Many  interesting  happenings  followed,  until  in 
time  we  reached  the  Turtle  Mountain  timbered 
country,  which,  though  interesting,  did  not  afford 
much  in  the  line  of  Ducks.  About  all  I  saw  there 
were  a  few  Blue-winged  Teals,  Redheads,  Golden- 
eyes  and  Mallards.  With  the  latter  I  had  a  rather 
amusing  experience.  One  day  I  found  myself  on 
the  shore  of  a  lake  in  an  uninhabited  region,  miles 
from  camp  at  dinner-time,  and  no  food  with  me. 
At  one  o'clock  I  was  beginning  to  feel  rather  faint, 
when  a  Mallard  flushed  from  the  grass  just  up  from 
the  water,  leaving  six  perfectly  fresh  eggs,  evidently 
an  incomplete  set.  It  occurred  to  me  that  this 
was  my  dinner,  providentially  furnished.  As  it  was 
raining,  cooking  was  out  of  the  question,  so  I  emp- 
tied two  of  the  eggs  into  my  mouth,  with  as  little 
tasting  as  possible.  For  an  hour  at  their  place  of 
destination  there  was  a  condition  of  unstable  equi- 
librium. Strong  will  at  length  conquered,  but 
the  appetite  for  raw  Ducks'  eggs  was  effectually 
destroyed. 

To  redeem  the  memory  of  Turtle  Mountain 
Ducks'  nests,  however,  occurred  a  much  pleasanfr 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

episode.  I  had  been  arduously  wading  a  very  boggy 
area  of  rushes,  a  sort  of  bayou  back  from  a  lake. 
Nothing  especial  had  come  to  light,  and  I  was 
struggling  absent-mindedly  on,  when  I  almost  trod 
on  a  bird  upon  its  nest  in  some  thick  rushes.  It 
fluttered  out  in  the  terrified,  pitiful  manner  of  the 
Ducks,  literally  right  from  under  my  feet,  a  brown- 
ish Duck  of  medium  size,  with  pearl-grey  specula, 
or  wing-bars.  Without  going  very  far,  it  alit  in 
some  open  water,  where  I  approached  it  within  a 
few  feet,  behind  some  rushes,  and  confirmed  my 
first  impression  that  it  was  a  female  Ring-necked 
Scaup,  distinguished  from  the  other  female  Scaups 
by  its  wing-bars  being  pearl-grey  instead  of  white. 
After  thus  satisfying  myself  I  went  back  to  where 
I  had  thrown  my  handkerchief  by  the  nest.  There 
was  a  pretty  canopy  of  rushes  arching  over  the 
neatly  built  basket,  soft  with  down  from  the  mater- 
nal breast,  in  which  lay  twelve  dark  brown  eggs 
almost  the  color  of  Bitterns'.  It  was  the  only  nest 
of  the  Ring-necked  Scaup  found  during  the  whole 
trip. 

Owing  to  the  illness  of  my  companion  we  soon 
had  to  leave  the  "mountains"  and  stay  in  a  neigh- 
boring town  for  a  few  days.  With  a  boy  for  com- 
pany, I  explored  the  region.  One  hot  day,  June 
18,  we  drove  twenty  miles  to  Long  Lake, — a  great 
alkaline  flat,  it  was,  covered  with  a  uniform  depth 
of  only  two  or  three  feet  of  water,  with  great  areas 
of  grass  and  scattered  clumps  of  rushes.  I  had 
been  told  that  Canvasbacks  nested  here,  and  after 
an  arduous  search,  finding  several  Ducks'  nests 
where  the  broods  had  been  hatched,  a  female  Can- 

186 


WILD-FOWL     OF     WILD-FOWL 

vasback  started  from  her  canopied  nest  in  a  clump 
of  rushes,  just  as  I  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
bulky  mass  of  stems  and  down.  I  realize  how  in- 
adequate is  the  power  of  words  to  convey  the  full 
impression  of  such  a  scene  and  the  interest  and 
excitement  of  such  a  moment.  Though  I  have  seen 
it  enacted  hundreds  of  times,  I  would  willingly 
tramp  miles  to  experience  that  thrill  once  more. 
For  one  thing,  at  such  a  time  the  mind  is  in  a  state 
of  expectancy  through  the  effort  of  the  search. 
The  wildness  of  those  prairie  lakes  adds  to  its 
charm.  Every  clump  of  thick  vegetation  suggests 
limitless  depths  of  possibility,  and  success  comes 
frequently  enough  not  to  allow  hope  and  expec- 
tancy to  flag.  And  when  it  does  come  "it  is  so 
sudden,"  that  rustling  of  the  grass,  the  beating  of 
wings,  the  sight  at  close  quarters  of  the  noble  bird 
rising  from  the  mysterious  fastness.  Every  nerve 
is  strained  to  note  each  marking  and  detail  in  that 
brief,  fleeting  instant,  into  which  a  whole  day  of 
life  is  crowded.  It  takes  training  of  eye  and  mind 
to  so  utilize  that  golden  speck  of  time  that  there 
shall  not  afterward  be  the  regret  of  a  confused  mind 
and  an  unidentified  nest.  Then  comes  the  delicious 
expectancy  of  the  approach  to  the  clump,  the  peer- 
ing in,  the  first  sight  of  the  hidden  treasure.  The 
whole  scene  is  one  of  Nature,  inanimate  and  living, 
at  her  best.  In  this  spirit,  with  enthusiasm  aglow, 
I  watched  the  swift  Canvasback  until  she  disap- 
peared behind  some  rushes,  and  then  peered  into 
the  bed  of  down.  Nine  dark  eggs  there  were,  and 
two  strangers,  the  smooth  white  eggs  of  a  Redhead 
that  had  laid  in  the  wrong  nest.  Neither  the  hot 

187 


AMONG  THE   WATER    FOWL 


THEN  COMES  THE  DELICIOUS  EXPECTANCY  OF  THE 
APPROACH  TO  THE  CLUMP,  THE  PEERING  IN,  THE 
FIRST  SIGHT  OF  THE  HIDDEN  TREASURE."  NEST 
AND  SURROUNDINGS  OF  THE  CANVASBACK 


marsh,  the  heated,  undrinkable  alkaline  water  which 
imparted  no  relief  in  cooling  brow  or  moistening 
parched  tongue,  nor  the  long  dark  prairie  drive, 
protracted  beyond  the  midnight  hour,  dispelled  that 

enthusiasm. 

Just  out  from 
the  town  was  a 
little  slough  of  a 
few  acres,  with 
the  usual  border 
and  clumps  of 
rushes,  where 
Ducks  and  other 
birds  resorted. 
One  morning,  as 
I  reached  the 
outer  edge  of  an 
area  of  flags,  I  heard  sounds  of  pattering  and  chirp- 
ing. In  a  moment  a  brood  of  eight  little  downy 
Ducks,  evidently  but  a  day  or  two  out  of  the  shell, 
appeared  in  the  open  water  in  a  well-ordered  line, 
swimming  with  all  their  might.  And  then,  with  a 
rush  of  despair,  came  the  mother,  a  Green-winged 
Teal,  to  the  rescue.  She  threw  herself  in  the  water 
in  front  of  me  and  lay  there  fluttering,  as  though 
sorely  wounded,  swimming  a  little  and  then  flying 
up,  only  to  return  in  a  moment  to  repeat  the  same 
performance.  Meanwhile  the  little  ones  had  dis- 
appeared in  the  rushes  further  along,  but  the  little 
mother  desisted  not  in  her  protestations  till  I  with- 
drew from  the  water's  edge  to  inspect  some  young 
Pintails,  nearly  half  grown,  that  were  skulking  in 
the  grass.  We  caught  one,  and  my  boy-companion 

188 


WILD-FOWL     OF     WlLD-FoWL 

was  for  taking  it  home.  But,  in  pity  for  it  under 
the  neglect  I  was  sure  it  would  receive,  I  pushed 
it  out  from  under  his  arm,  and  it  escaped  to  the 
water. 


It  is  time  now,  in  the  narrative,  that  we  hasten 
back  to  the  region  of  Devil's  Lake,  and  describe 
another  visit  to  "The  Enchanted  Isles."  It  was 
on  June  27,  late  enough  in  the  season  for  the  tar- 
diest Ducks  to  have  about  finished  laying  their  full 
sets,  another  beautiful  day,  when  we  again  landed 
on  what  we  have  called  the  third  island.  A  cloud 
of  Terns  and  Ring-bills  hovered  over  it.  Hardly 
had  we  stepped  from  the  boat  when  up  went  a 
Pintail  from  the  weeds,  leaving  her  six  incubated 
eggs  for  us  to  admire.  Half  a  dozen  steps  more, 
and  away  fluttered  a  Baldpate  from  her  eight  fresh 
creamy-white  eggs ;  then  another  of  the  same  spe- 
cies, a  few  feet  further  on,  from  a  set  of  ten. 
Each  nest  was  placed  under  a  clump  of  weeds 
among  the  loose  rocks.  Then,  as  I  retraced  my 
steps  towards  the  boat,  -a  Lesser  Scaup  flew  from 
the  grass  a  few  rods  ahead  of  me.  After  a  little 
search,  I  found  her  set  of  nine  beautiful  brown 
eggs. 

Meanwhile  my  companion  was  investigating  a 
clump  of  rose-bushes  near  by,  on  the  summit  of 
the  island.  Seeing  under  them  some  rubbish  with 
down  clinging  to  it,  he  poked  a  stick  into  it  and 
pulled  it  apart,  unearthing  seven  great  flesh-colored 
eggs  of  the  White-winged  Scoter,  a  bird  that  had 
only  recently  been  suspected  of  breeding  in  the 

189 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

United  States.  Numerous  individuals  had  been 
hanging  around  these  islands  all  the  spring,  and  I 
knew  they  must  be  breeding  somewhere  about. 
This  nest  was  little  more  than  a  hollow  in  the 
damp  earth,  with  a  rim  of  straw,  stems,  and  sticks, 
lined  with  a  small  amount  of  dark  gray  down.  The 
eggs  were  fresh  and  cold,  the  set  incomplete.  The 
bird  had  scraped  loam  over  the  nest,  and  it  seemed 
like  digging  potatoes  to  get  at  the  eggs  and  prepare 
the  nest  to  photograph.  This  set  me  to  hunting 
for  more  Scoters'  nests,  and  it  was  but  a  moment 
or  so  before  I  dug  from  under  a  small  clump  of 
brush  close  by  a  similar  nest  with  only  one  buried 
egg,  the  Scoter  having  but  just  begun  to  lay. 

Then  a  Gadwall  got  up  from  her  set  of  ten 
white  eggs,  and,  as  we  proceeded,  at  every  few 
steps  Gadwalls,  Scaups,  and  Baldpates  started  from 
their  nests.  So  incessant  was  the  fluttering  up  of 
Ducks  from  beneath  our  feet  that  my  mind  became 
utterly  confused,  so  far  as  taking  exact  account  of 
the  various  nests  was  concerned. 

The  matter  of  identifying  nests  had  its  difficul- 
ties. Although  subsequent* investigation  has  cleared 
away  most  of  the  uncertainties,  I  find  myself  obliged 
to  confess  that  it  is  practically  impossible,  under 
many  circumstances,  in  the  hurry  of  a  Duck's  de- 
parture when  flushed  from  a  nest,  to  distinguish 
positively,  for  instance,  between  the  female  Gad- 
wall  and  Baldpate.  The  latter  seems  to  have  rather 
more  white  on  the  wing-bar,  and  is  of  a  slightly 
lighter  gray  plumage, —  that  is  about  all.  The  eggs 
of  both  are  white,  and  although  sets  of  the  Bald- 
pate  are  usually  the  more  creamy,  I  am  not  cer- 

190 


WILD-FOWL     OF     WlLD-FoWL 

tain  that  the  difference  always  holds.  The  female 
Pintail  at  a  distance  looks  very  much  like  both 
of  the  above,  though  she  has  a  longer,  more  slen- 
der neck.  But  her  eggs  are  distinct,  having  an 
olivaceous  caste.  The  eggs  of  the  three  Scaups, 
Greater,  Lesser,  and  Ring-necked, — are  alike  in 
color,  a  decided  brown,  and  different  from  eggs 
of  any  other  Ducks,  but  are  easily  confused  one 
with  the  other,  as  are  the  birds  themselves.  The 
eggs  of  the  Blue-  and  Green-winged  Teal  are  indis- 
tinguishable, but  one  can  identify  the  birds  at 
close  range.  The  female  Mallard  can  be  told  by 
its  large  size,  spotted  plumage,  and  blue  speculum. 
Females  of  Redhead  and  Canvas-back  are  some- 
what alike,  but  the  latter  is  larger  and  lighter  in 
color,  and  the  eggs  of  each  I  consider  distinctive. 
The  Shoveler  and  her  eggs  can  usually  be  distin- 
guished,—  though  there  is  some  resemblance  to  the 
Pintail, —  as  the  size  is  considerably  less.  As  to 
Ruddy  Duck  and  White-winged  Scoter  there  can 
be  no  mistake.  The  eggs  of  the  former  are  aston- 
ishingly large  for  the  size  of  the  bird,  have  a 
rough,  pitted  shell,  entirely  unique,  and  are  pure 
white.  Scoters'  eggs  are  larger  than  those  of  any 
Duck  nesting  in  the  United  States,  save  the  Eider, 
which  is  not  found  breeding  in  the  interior. 

Leaving  this  island,  at  length,  with  its  many 
nests  of  Terns  and  Ducks,  we  crossed  to  island 
number  two,  only  a  short  distance  away.  Large 
numbers  of  young  Ring-bills  were  scurrying  about 
among  the  rocks  or  swimming  out  into  the  lake. 
It  was  the  same  as  on  the  other  islands  with  the 
Ducks.  We  scoured  through  its  many  areas  and 

191 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 


clumps  of  grass,  weeds,  or  bushes,  and  found 
enough  eggs  of  Gadwalls,  Baldpates,  Scaups,  Sco- 
ters, Pintails,  and  Shovelers  to  have  filled  many 

pails,  had  we 
gathered  them. 
It  was  not 
surprising,  with 
this  teeming 
bird-life,  to  find 
that  the  Ducks 
not  infrequently 
laid  in  each 
others'  nests.  I 
found  a  mixed 
set  of  ten  Shov- 
elers' eggs  and 
four  of  a  Scaup, 
flushing  the  fe- 
male Shoveler  from  this  aggregation.  I  also  found 
Shovelers'  eggs  in  a  Baldpates'  nest. 

On  the  summit  of  the  island,  under  clumps  of 
rose-bushes,  Scoters  seemed  to  hold  sway.  Under 
one  clump  we  literally  unearthed  ten  buried  eggs. 
My  companion  looked  into  another  near-by  thicket, 
and  a  great  Scoter  sprang  almost  into  his  face, 
revealing  a  magnificent  set  of  fourteen  large  eggs. 
At  the  western  end  of  the  island,  on  the  highest 
ground,  was  a  very  large  clump  of  rose-bushes,  as 
high  as  one's  head,  the  others  having  been  but  a 
couple  of  feet  in  height.  Near  the  top  of  one  of 
these  bushes  was  the  nest  of  a  common  King- 
bird with  three  eggs.  I  crawled  into  this  maze 
of  briars  and  was  about  to  leave  when  I  thought  I 

192 


"  AND  FOUND  ENOUGH  EGGS  ...  TO  HAVE  FILLED 
MANY  PAILS,  HAD  WE  GATHERED  THEM."  NEST 
OF  LESSER  SCAUP 


WiLD-FoWL     OF     WlLD-FoWL 


saw  some  dark  down  projecting  from  the  ground. 
In  a  moment  I  had  dug  out  six  more  Scoters' 
eggs.  There  was  almost  no  nest,  the  eggs  being 
laid  simply  in  a  hollow,  lined  with  a  little  down, 
and  over  them  the  bird  had  scratched  the  earth. 
The  eggs  are  thus  left  till  the  set  is  completed, 
when  incubation  begins.  Just  as  I  got  out  again 
into  the  open  I 
saw  my  compan- 
ion,  as  he  bent 
over  another 
clump,  nearly 
knocked  down 
as  a  Scoter  sud- 
denly flew  almost 
into  his  face. 
Here  was  an- 
other typical  nest 
with  ten  fresh 
eggs.  Under 
still  another 
clump  was  a  hol- 
low freshly  scratched  out,  evidently  by  a  Scoter,  in 
preparation  for  her  first  egg.  It  is  now  known  that 
the  Scoter  breeds  very  late,  seldom  finishing  laying 
before  July,  and  often  well  along  in  that  month. 

A  hurried  trip  to  island  number  one  re- 
vealed, besides  sixty  Cormorants'  nests  still  with 
eggs,  a  few  more  nests  of  Ducks.  Then  we  made 
for  the  fourth  and  last  island.  I  paid  but  passing 
heed  to  the  Baldpates,  Gadwalls  and  Scaups  that 
flew  from  their  nests,  or  to  a  Pintail  whose  eight 
eggs  were  on  the  point  of  hatching.  I  wanted  to 


A  GREAT  SCOTER  SPRANG  ALMOST  INTO  HIS  FACE. 
REVEALING  A  MAGNIFICENT  SET  OF  FOURTEEN 
LARGE  EGGS."  NEST  OF  WHITE-WINGED  SCOTER, 
UNTIL  RECENTLY  HARDLY  KNOWN  TO  SCIENCE 


193 


AMONG   THE    WATER    FOWL 

see  more  of  the  little-known  nesting-habits  of  the 
Scoters.  As  they  seemed  to  select  clumps  of 
bushes,  I  felt,  as  I  neared  the  only  clump  on  this 
island,  that  there  must  be  a  Scoters'  nest  under  its 
shade.  Nor  was  I  disappointed,  as  I  cautiously 
parted  the  bushes  and  looked  in.  There,  about  a 
yard  from  me,  sat  a  female  Scoter  on  her  nest,  the 
picture  of  consternation,  as  our  glances  met.  My 
first  thought  was  to  get  the  camera  and  photo- 
graph her  on  the  nest,  so  I  cautiously  withdrew. 
But  the  bird  by  this  time  recovered  her  presence 
of  mind.  The  bushes  parted  and  she  waddled  out 
past  me,  almost  brushing  against  me,  then  taking 
to  wing,  at  length  to  drop  into  the  lake  and  dive. 
The  nest  contained  thirteen  fresh  eggs.  Probably, 
as  with  most  other  Ducks  on  these  islands  and 
elsewhere,  from  eight  to  eleven  is  the  ordinary 
number  of  eggs  in  the  full  complements.  On 
another  visit  to  these  islands  a  friend  of  mine  ac- 
tually caught  a  Scoter  on  her  nest  and  obliged 
her  to  sit  for  her  picture  ere  he  restored  her  to 
freedom. 

The  next  day  I  made  a  visit  to  the  slough  where, 
over  a  month  before,  I  had  seen  so  many  kinds  of 
Ducks.  We  had  first  to  dig  out  a  boat  on  the  large 
lake,  that  a  gale  had  nearly  filled  with  gravel,  ere  we 
could  take  it  along  with  us  on  the  buckboard.  The 
rushes  and  grass  had  grown  very  high,  and  it  was 
not  as  easy  as  before  to  see  the  Ducks,  though 
there  were  plenty  of  them.  Here,  at  last,  I  found 
my  first  nest  of  the  Ruddy  Duck.  It  was  a  genu- 
ine floating  structure,  built  out  in  the  middle  of  the 
slough  in  deep  water,  with  only  a  few  stems  of  grass 

194 


'95 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

near  it  for  anchorage  and  shade.  In  location  only 
was  it  like*  a  Grebe's  nest,  being  dry,  deep  and 
bulky,  though  with  little  down.  A  recent  storm, 
probably,  had  partly  upset  it,  and  several  of  the 
fifteen  large  white  eggs  were  lying  on  the  edge  or 
spilled  out  into  the  water.  It  seemed  almost  im- 
possible that  such  a  little  bird  as  a  Ruddy  Duck 
should  have  laid  that  pile  of  eggs,  several  times  its 
own  weight,  in  less  than  three  weeks.  When  I  first 
saw  a  Ruddy's  eggs  I  could  hardly  believe  they  were 
properly  identified,  as  they  are  larger  than  the  eggs 
of  the  Mallard  or  the  Canvasback. 

Canvasback,  Redhead,  and  Ruddy  Ducks  can  be 
classed  together  in  the  nesting  season.  They  all 
build  elaborate  nests  in  the  rushes  out  over  deep 
water,  and  when  one  is  found  in  a  slough  the  other 
members  of  the  triumvirate  are  also  likely  to  occur. 
As  though  in  proof  of  this,  I  saw,  as  I  inspected  this 
nest,  a  female  Canvasback,  followed  by  eight  young, 
swimming  across  the  lane  of  water.  Not  far  away, 
as  later  I  waded  from  the  boat  into  the  rushes,  I 
came  upon  a  fine  nest  of  the  Redhead,  canopied 
over  with  the  dry  rushes,  with  thirteen  Redhead 
eggs  and  two  of  the  Ruddy  Duck,  and  then,  still 
another,  in  some  long  grass  growing  out  of  deep 
water,  very  bulky  and  downy,  with  eleven  Redhead 
eggs  and  one  of  the  Ruddy. 


But  it  is  not  only  amid  grass  and  rushes  that  the 
nests  of  Ducks  are  found,  though  many  people  sup- 
pose this  to  be  the  case.  To  such  a  sight  that  I  wit- 
nessed would  be  a  revelation.  It  was  "  Memorial 

196 


WiLD-FoWL     OF     WlLD-FoWL 


Day,"  and  three  of  us  were  exploring*  a  patch  of 
timber  near  the  shore  of  a  Dakota  lake.  Seeing  a 
knot-hole  in  an  oak  tree,  about  fifteen  feet  from  the 
ground,  with  a 
piece  of  white 
down  clinging  to 
its  edge,  I  called 
to  my  friend  to 
come  and  in- 
spect it,  as  a 
probable  nest  of 
the  American 
Golden  -  eye 
Duck.  No  soon- 
er were  we  all 
under  the  tree 
than  we  saw, 
through  a  lower 
crack,  a  movement  within.  Directly  a  brown  head 
appeared  at  the  entrance,  and  the  Golden-eye  pro- 
ceeded to  come  forth.  But  she  had  a  hard  time 
of  it.  The  hole  was  so  small  that  a  slender  human 
arm  could  hardly  be  inserted.  The  poor  Duck 
had  to  wriggle  and  twist  back  and  forth  like  a 
snake,  I  should  think  for  ten  seconds,  ere  she  was 
able  to  emerge  and  take  to  wing.  It  was  a  sin- 
gular and  interesting  sight.  Then  I  climbed  the 
tree  and  found  that  about  two  feet  below  the  hole, 
in  a  bed  of  soft,  snowy  down,  there  were  ten  large 
fresh  eggs  of  a  greenish  color.  The  cavity  was  so 
small  that  they  had  to  be  piled  in  two  layers.  It 
must  have  been  the  scarcity  of  suitable  holes  that 
compelled  the  Duck  to  submit  to  such  discomfort. 

197 


BUT  IT  IS  NOT  ONLY  AMID  GRASS  AND  RUSHES  THAT 
THE  NESTS  OF  DUCKS  ARE  FOUND."  NEST  OF  AMER- 
ICAN GOLDEN -EYE  IN  THE  KNOT-HOLE,  CONTAIN- 
ING SEVEN  EGGS 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 


On  a  certain  part  of  the  shore  of  Devil's  Lake 
there  is  another  similar  area  of  timber,  where,  late 
in  June,  during  the  tour  described  above,  I  had  a 
most  fascinating  time  for  several  days  with  the 
Golden-eyes.  We  had  just  encamped  near-by,  and 
I  was  taking  a  preliminary  stroll  through  the  grove 
that  had  some  quite  large  trees,  some  of  them  being 
mere  decayed  shells.  At  length  I  came  to  a  stub 
with  a  large  round  opening  at  the  top  of  the  main 
trunk,  about  ten  feet  from  the  ground.  No  bird 
flew  at  my  rapping,  nor  was  there  any  down  visible 
at  the  entrance.  However,  I  though  I  would  scram- 
ble up  and  look  in.  About  an  arm's  length  from 
the  opening  was  a  mass  of  white  down  and  feathers 
that  filled  the  cavity.  Reaching  into  it,  I  felt  eggs — 

a  large  number 
of  them  .  It 
seemed  as 
though  the  count 
would  never 
end,  but  I  finally 
ascertained  that 
the  number  was 
sixteen,  piled 
there  in  a  great 
heap,  two  or 
three  deep. 

With  this  en- 
couragement I 
began  to  look 
from  this  stub  I 
large  tree,  about 
about  waist  high, 


"  AT  LENGTH  I  CAME  TO  A  STUB  WITH  A  LARGE  ROUND 
OPENING  AT  THE  TOP  OF  THE  MAIN  TRUNK."  NEST 
OF  AMERICAN  GOLDEN  -  EYE  CONTAINING  SIXTEEN 
EGGS 

for  more  holes.  Only  a  few  rods 
soon  discovered  another  hole  in  a 
as  high  up  as  my  head.  Below  it, 

198 


WiLD-FoWL     OF     WlLD-FoWL 

was  an  opening  that  someone  had  made  with  an 
axe  to  get  at  a  Duck's  nest.  There  was  down 
around  this  lower  hole,  and  through  it  I  easily  put 
my  hand  on  a  set  of  seven  eggs.  Very  near  this 
tree  was  the  most  likely  opening  of  all,  a  great  hol- 
low almost  large  enough  for  a  man  to  crawl  in, 
about  twenty  feet  up  a  leaning  oak.  No  down  was 
visible,  but  I  felt  certain  that  there  must  be  a  nest, 
and  my  expectations  were  more  than  realized.  As 
I  scrambled  up,  and  my  head  was  just  opposite  the 
hole,  whirring,  thundering  sounds  issued  from 
within,  and  out  went  a  female  Golden-eye,  with  a 
frightened  murmur,  almost  in  my  face.  I  could 
have  seized  her  had  I  wished  to.  Peering  in,  I 
counted  eleven  eggs  at  the  bottom,  in  the  usual 
"feather  bed."  I  could  just  reach  them,  and  the 
first  one  that  I  took  out  to  examine  I  found  was 
pipped,  the  duckling  chirping  within. 

The  next  day  was  very  rainy,  but  it  cleared  in 
the  afternoon,  and  again  I  climbed  the  tree.  I 
never  expect  to  see  a  prettier  sight.  The  mother 
lay  at  the  bottom,  surrounded  by  a  beautiful  flock 
of  black  and  white  young.  Some  of  them  were  on 
the  old  Duck's  back;  others  were  under  her,  ap- 
parently, and  several  of  them  were  moving  around 
in  the  limited  chamber,  picking  at  the  chips  on  the 
bottom.  Instantly  the  old  bird  caught  sight  of  me. 
Turning  over  partly  on  her  side,  she  looked  up 
with  a  frip-htened  expression,  and  hissed  like  a 
snake.  It  was  a  most  delectable  little  family  scene. 
After  I  had  enjoyed  it  for  a  few  moments  I  with- 
drew from  the  hole  and  began  rapping  the  tree. 
It  took  a  number  of  calls  before  the  mother  reluc- 

199 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

tantly  responded,  and  flew  out,  as  before.  Every 
egg  had  hatched,  and  the  little  creatures  were  active 
and  well  dried  off,  ready  for  their  exit  to  the  great 
lake  and  the  wide  world.  I  hoped  to  see  them 
taken  from  the  nest,  but  the  next  morning  it  was 
rainy  again,  and,  when  I  got  there  later  in  the  day, 
they  had  departed.  Where  the  tree  is  over  the 
water,  the  young  have  been  seen  to  leap  out  them- 
selves; but  other  observers  report  that  the  old  bird 
usually  carries  them  out  one  by  one  in  her  bill. 

As  hollow  trees — or  any  others  for  that  matter- 
are  not  very  plentiful  in  Dakota,  and  there  are  a 
good  many  families  of  the  American  Golden-eye 
and  Hooded  Merganser,  like  Abraham  and  Lot  of 
old  the  two  kinds  have  wisely  decided  to  separate. 
The  Golden-eyes  seem  to  monopolize  the  hollow 
trees  by  the  lakes,  the  Mergansers  those  by  rivers 
The  fact  is  that  they  prefer  still  and  running  water 
respectively.  In  one  trip  that  I  made  down  the 
Sheyenne  River  after  the  middle  of  June,  I  found 
the  pretty  hooded  fowl  with  the  saw-like  bills  quite 
abundant  on  the  stream ;  but  a  hollow,  with  green- 
ish white  egg-shells,  from  which  the  brood  had 
hatched  and  gone,  indicated  that  we  were  too  late 
for  eggs  that  season.  The  male  Hooded  Merganser 
is  a  very  striking  bird,  with  his  fine  crest  and  con- 
spicuous black  and  white  plumage.  I  shall  not  for- 
get how  a  pair  of  them  on  this  river  looked,  as  they 
floated  near  together  on  its  quiet  surface.  In  sum- 
mer the  stream  is  but  a  few  yards  wide,  so  when  I 
crawled  up  through  the  bushes  to  the  edge  of  the 
bank  just  opposite  the  Ducks,  I  was  very  near, 
indeed.  They  did  not  see  me,  and  not  until  after 

200 


WiLD-FoWL     OF    WlLD-FoWL 

some    time    spent    in    paddling    about    and   dressing 
their  feathers  did  they  fly  off. 


In  my  visit  the  past  season  to  the  lakes  and 
sloughs  of  this  splendid  prairie  region,  I  renewed 
my  acquaintance  with  the  Ducks  and  Geese,  and 
made  some  further  observations.  As  it  happened, 
we  found  several  nests  of  the  Canada  Goose,  this 
time  in  marshy  sloughs,  large  platforms  of  stems 
built  in  areas  of  broken-down  rushes  that  made  a 
foundation  above  the  surrounding  water.  It  was 
June,  and  we  were  too  late,  for  only  an  addled  egg 
or  two  remained.  The  Geese  lay  usually  early  in 
May,  or  even  in  April,  it  is  said. 

The  Ducks  seemed  to  be  about  as  numerous  as 
before.  On  the  islands  they  held  their  own  well, 
though  not  so  many  Scoters  were  nesting  there. 
But  the  presence  of  large  flocks  of  them  in  differ- 
ent bays  showed  that  great  numbers  of  them  were 
breeding  in  places  along  the  shores,  doubtless,  from 
others7  observation,  up  on  the  adjoining  prairie.  I 
noticed  more  mixed  Ducks'  sets  than  ever.  We 
found  here  nests  of  Gadwall,  Baldpate  and  Scaup 
that  had  each  one  or  two  Scoters'  eggs  in  them, 
and  these  first  three  also  intermingled  with  one 
another.  A  Ring-necked  Scaup  had  a  nest  with 
ten  eggs.  On  June  22  I  came  upon  a  sight  that  I 
had  never  witnessed  before.  A  Shoveler  flushed  at 
our  feet  from  the  grass,  and  there  were  ten  young 
in  the  nest,  all  dry,  and  ready  to  take  to  the  water, 
which  they  tried  to  do  as  soon  as  their  mother  left 
them.  One  of  the  party  put  his  hat  over  them 

201 


AMONG   THE    WATER    FOWL 


while  I  set  up  the  camera  and  snapped  at  them 
the  instant  the  hat  was  removed.  As  soon  as  we 
allowed  them  to  they  all  streamed  out  of  the  nest, 

and  down  the 
bank  into  the 
water,  to  join 
their  distressed 
mother,  who  was 
flapping  about 
near  the  shore 
calling  to  them 
i  n  a  plaintive 
manner.  In  one 
patch  of  lowrose- 
bushes  there 
were  three 
Ducks'  nests 
within  less  than 
ten  feet  —  a  Sco- 
ter's with  twelve  eggs,  a  Gadwall's  with  eleven,  and 
a  Scaup's  with  ten  —  quite  an  aggregation,  those 
thirty-three  eggs! 

During  a  week's  time  that  we  spent  among  the 
sloughs  first  mentioned  in  this  chapter,  from  June 
7  to  14,  we  found  a  considerable  number  of  nests 
of  the  Canvasback,  Redhead,  and  Ruddy  Ducks, 
built  out  in  the  reeds  over  water  averaging  knee- 
deep,  all  of  which  made  a  very  interesting  study. 
The  Ruddy  Ducks  were  only  just  laying,  and  had 
anywhere,  from  one  to  ten  eggs.  These  nests,  un- 
like the  one  previously  mentioned,  were  well  hidden 
away  in  the  reeds,  usually  in  the  midst  of  a  large 
clump  or  tract  in  the  very  thickest  of  the  vegeta- 

202 


A  SHOVELER  FLUSHED  AT  OUR  FEET  FROM  THE  GRASS, 
AND  THERE  WERE  TEN  YOUNG  IN  THE  NEST" 


WiLD-FoWL     OF     WlLD-FoWL 

tion,  and  canopied  by  the  surrounding  reeds  being 
drawn  over  them,  and  even  twisted  together.  In 
fact,  some  looked  almost  exactly  like  a  larger  type 
of  Rail's  nests.  As  has  been  the  experience  of 
others,  we  never  could  catch  Mrs.  Ruddy  on  the 
nest.  She  always  skulks  off,  and  allows  not  even 
a  glimpse  of  herself. 

The  other  two  kinds  usually  remain  sitting  on 
their  eggs,  flushing  sooner,  however,  than  the  prairie- 
nesting  Ducks,  when  the  intruder  comes  within  ten 
to  fifteen  paces. 
The  Redhead  is 
a  great  layer. 
Some  days  I 
f  ou  nd  half  a 
dozen  nests,  most 
of  which  had  as 
many  as  ten  eggs, 
several  times  fif- 
teen, and  once  I 
flushed  a  Red- 
head from 
twenty-two  eggs  —  the  largest  set  that  I  have  ever 
seen  in  the  nest  of  any  bird.  The  Canvasback  usu- 
ally had  ten  or  eleven  eggs,  sometimes  as  few  as 
seven.  One  nest  that  I  found  was  in  a  very  large, 
open  clump,  away  out  in  the  w7ater.  I  saw  it  first 
when  the  bird  flew  at  some  distance  from  me.  There 
were  six  eggs,  and  I  visited  it  a  few  days  later  to  see 
if  she  had  laid  more.  Mrs.  Canvasback  was  asleep 
on  the  nest,  with  her  bill  resting  on  her  breast.  I 
stood  within  ten  yards  and  watched  her  for  several 
minutes.  Think  of  it !  the  famous  Canvasback  of 


"THE  RUDDY  DUCKS  WERE  ONLY  JUST  LAYING,  AND 
HAD  ANYWHERE  FROM  ONE  TO  TEN  EGGS  .  .  . 
WELL  HIDDEN  AWAY  IN  THE  REEDS" 


203 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

the  epicure  at  home  in  the  northern  wilds,  out  on 
the  lake,  asleep  in   her  ark  — what  a  scene   it  was! 

But  for  lack  of 
time  I  might 
have  managed  to 
photograph  her 
some  day  by  ac- 
customing her  to 
the  sight  of  the 
cam  era .  At 
length  she  raised 
her  head,  and 
saw  me.  For 
instant  she 


'THE    REDHEAD    IS   A    GREAT   LAYER 


an 
seemed 


para- 


lyzed, then  she  stood  up  and,  with  a  quick  spring, 
went   flying   off,   just   over  the    tops   of   the    reeds. 

The  same  six 
eggs  were  there, 
heavily  incu- 
bated I  found 
when  I  exam- 
ined them  more 
closely.  And  I 
saw  another 
thing  I  had  over- 
looked before : 
only  two  of  the 


SBI 

THE  SAME  NEST  OF  REDHEAD,  SHOWING  SURROUNDINGS 


eggs 
own, 


were     her 
the    other 


four  being  Redhead  eggs.  Not  over  a  gunshot  from 
this  spot,  in  a  clump  of  reeds  away  out  in  the  lake, 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  shore,  another  Canvasback 


204 


WILD-FOWL     OF     WILD-FOWL 


ANOTHER  CANVASBACK  HAD  A  NEST  WITH^  SEVEN 
EGGS  OF  HER  OWN  AND  ONE  OF  A  RUDDY  DUCK" 


had  a  nest  with  seven  eggs  of  her  own  and  one  of 
a  Ruddy  Duck.  No  further  away  was  another  Can- 
vasback  with  eleven  eggs  that  were  about  to  hatch. 
For  a  wonder, 
these  eggs  were 
all  hers.  Though 
I  imagine  that 
this  tribe  are  all 
b  usy  bodie  s ,  I 
consider  the  odd 
little  Ruddy  as 
the  gre  ates  t 
adept  at  poking 
her  blue  nose  in- 
to other  duck- 
people's  busi- 
ness. I  saw  a  Canvasback  on  June  10  swimming 
in  this  slough  with  five  young.  Whether  the  blood 
of  any  of  these  was  "Ruddy"  I  could  not  tell, 
though  probably  the  eggs  were  laid  early  enough 
to  outwit  that  semi-parasite. 

The  breeding  dates  of  these  various  Ducks 
varies  considerably  with  the  earliness  or  tardiness 
of  the  particular  season.  On  my  first  trip  I  found 
the  season  very  backward.  Many  of  the  Ducks  had 
not  finished  laying  by  the  first  of  June — the  majority 
not  even  then.  But  last  spring  they  were  very  much 
earlier,  as  the  season  opened  warm  and  pleasant,  and 
the  various  species  arrived  at  an  early  date.  While 
there  is  no  exact  time  at  which  each  species  lays — 
for  individuals  are  very  erratic — there  is  an  average 
date  at  which  one  can  expect  to  find  the  bulk  of  a 
species  thus  employed.  The  little  calendar  that  I 

205 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

give  I  would  not  set  up  against  the  observation  of 
others;  it  is  simply  the  average  of  two  seasons'  con- 
tinuous observation.  Mallards  and  Pintails  are  nota- 
bly the  early  birds,  laying  any  time  after  the  first  of 
May  —  occasionally  before,  I  am  told  —  though  I 
think  that  about  May  20  one  will  find  the  greater 
number  of  nests.  By  about  this  time,  in  ordinary 
seasons,  the  Canvasbacks  have  laid  and  the  Hooded 
Mergansers.  May  25  is  about  the  right  date  for 
Golden-eyes  ;  June  i  for  Teal,  Shovelers,  and  Red- 
heads; June  10  or  later  for  Gadwalls  and  Ruddies; 
June  15  and  on  for  the  Scaups  and  Baldpates,  and 
the  ist  of  July  for  White-winged  Scoter. 


To  make  the  acquaintance  in  the  nesting  season 
of  certain  other  Ducks  which  do  not  go  to  the  re- 
mote north,  we  shall  have  to  explore  the  Atlantic 
coast  region.  It  is  by  no  means  as  easy  to  find 
them  there  as  on  the  Great  Plains,  yet  patient 
searching  will  now  and  then  be  rewarded.  Most 
of  the  sea  Ducks,  such  as  the  Scoters  and  Old- 
squaws,  migrate  to  Labrador  or  beyond.  Some  day 
I  hope  to  follow  them,  but  as  yet  my  wanderings 
have  not  been  extended  north  of  the  Magdalen 
Islands.  Yet  there  are  some  interesting  Ducks  even 
there  to  be  studied. 

Away  out  by  East  Point  is  what  is  called  u  the 
Great  Pond,"  a  shallow  body  of  water  certainly  a 
couple  of  miles  long,  occasionally  inundated  by  the 
sea,  that  breaks  across  the  beach  in  storms.  At  its 
east  end  are  what  the  fishermen  have  named  the 
u  Egg  Nubbles,"  a  number  of  tiny  islets,  on  which 

206 


207 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 


Terns  and  Ducks  breed.  At  our  first  arrival  we 
visited  them,  and  were  disappointed  not  to  find  any 
Ducks'  nests,  although  there  were  scores  of  Ducks 
of  several  kinds,  mostly  Red-breasted  Mergansers, 
feeding  or  flying  about.  We  made  the  trip  again 
on  the  29th  of  June.  An  easterly  storm  was  raging, 
and  we  droves  even  or  eight  miles  over  beach,  dunes, 
and  barrens,  in  an  old  cart  drawn  by  an  ancient 
white  horse.  Even  in  the  thickest  of  winter  cloth- 
ing and  overcoats  we  were  shivering.  Reaching 
our  destination,  we  tied  the  horse  to  a  clump  of 
stunted  spruces  and  waded  out  to  the  "Nubbles." 

We  had  almost 
reached  the  first 
when  a  Dusky  or 
"Black"  Duck 
flushed  from  the 
grass  up  from  the 
edge,  leaving  a 
pretty,  downy 
nest  with  eight 
fresh  eggs  that 

"A   DUSKY   DUCK   FLUSHED   FROM  THE  GRASS  UP  FROM  rlnQplv 

THE  EDGE,  LEAVING  A  PRETTY  DOWNY  NEST  WITH  ClObCiy 


EIGHT  FRESH   EGGS" 


bled  the  eggs  of 
the  Mallard.  I  was  surprised  to  find  fresh  eggs  of 
this  Duck  so  late,  as,  from  our  first  arrival,  we  had 
seen  broods  of  young  in  the  ponds,  some  of  them 
several  weeks  old.  A  few  feet  away,  under  a  little 
bush,  a  Merganser  had  scratched  out  a  hollow,  as 
yet  unlined,  and  had  laid  the  first  egg  of  her  litter. 
Then  we  waded  across  to  the  next  islet,  and  here 
found  what  I  had  hoped  for.  The  fishermen  all  said 
that  "Bluebells',"  or  Scaups,  nested  on  these  and 

208 


WiLD-FoWL     OF     WlLD-FoWL 


other  islands.  I  had  seen  some  of  the  birds  and 
was  prepared  for  what  now  took  place.  Up  flut- 
tered a  thick-set  brown  Duck,  with  white  wing-bars, 
from  the  grass  a 
couple  of  yards 
up  from  the 
shore.  It  was 
unmistakably  a 
Scaup,  and  a 
large  specimen 
at  that.  In  a 
typical, well-con- 
cealed, down- 
lined  nest  were 
nine  large,  dark 
brown  eggs. 
Their  size,  meas- 
uring from  two 
and  a  half  to  two 
and  six-tenths  inches  in  length,  made  it  sure  that 
they  belonged  to  the  Greater  Scaup.  According  to 
the  books,  none  of  the  Scaups  had  been  known  to 
nest  on  the  Atlantic  coast. 

The  fisherman  affirmed  that  Teal  of  both  kinds 
nested  on  the  islands.  For  a  time  it  seemed  that 
all  my  arduous  wading  and  tramping  would  fail  to 
verify  this.  But  on  the  afternoon  of  June  16,  as  I 
was  wearily  dragging  my  heavy  boots  along  the 
edge  of  a  slough,  something  suddenly  went  flap- 
ping over  the  grass,  out  from  under  a  projecting 
spruce-bough  that  sprawled  flat  on  the  ground,  on 
which  I  had  almost  trodden.  It  was  a  female  Blue- 
winged  Teal.  I  lifted  the  bough,  and  there  were 

209 


IN  A  TYPICAL,  WELL-CONCEALED,  DOWN-LINED  NEST 
WERE  NINE  LARGE  DARK  BROWN  EGGS."  NEST  OF 
GREATER  SCAUP,  MAGDALEN  ISLANDS.  "ACCORD- 
ING TO  THE  BOOKS,  NONE  OF  THE  SCAUPS  HAD 
BEEN  KNOWN  TO  BREED  IN  EASTERN  NORTH 
AMERICA" 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 


twelve  eggs,  about  to  hatch.  After  photographing 
them  I  replaced  the  bough,  and  when  I  passed  the 
spot  again  two  days  later,  scattered  egg-shells  told 
of  another  brood  added  to  the  Duck-farm  of  the 
Magdalen  Islands. 

We  had  poor  success  in  finding  "  Shell-ducks'  ' 
nests  —  as  the  Mergansers  are  here  locally  called. 
A  boy  found  an  incomplete  set  under  a  spruce  tree 
in  the  woods,  and  a  dog  broke  up  a  couple  of  simi- 
larly placed  nests  on  a  densely  spruce-grown  island, 
but  all  I  found  was  that  one  egg  (mentioned  above)  . 
Most  of  the  females  were  still  with  their  mates  out 
on  the  ponds,  and  evidently,  this  year  at  any  rate, 
incubation  did  not  begin  till  July.  Some  of  them 
nest  in  the  grass  by  the  shores,  but  their  general 
practice  is,  I  was  told,  to  lay  under  the  dense  low 

tangled  woods,  in 
Hence  their  nests 
are  very  hard  to 
find,  even  when 
the  birds  are  in- 
cubating. They 
are  very  abundant 
on  these  islands. 
The  eggs  are  of 
a  drab  color,  a 
little  lighter  than 
those  o  f  the 

Qrcmr,o      a  n  H   HllitP 
UCdUJJD,   dllU.  quil 

shiny.       Their  TCl- 

atives,  the  Goosander  and  the  Hooded  Merganser, 
as  well  as  the  American  Golden  -eye,  are  said  to 
breed  in  the  eastern  Provinces  and  in  Maine,  all 


spruces,    often    well    into    the 
almost   impenetrable    thickets. 


LIFTED  THE  BOUGH.  AND  THERE  WERE  TWELVE 
EGGS,  ABOUT  TO  HATCH."  NEST  OF  BLUE-WINGED 
TEAL,  MAGDALEN  ISLANDS 


210 


WILD-FOWL     OF     WILD-FOWL 

of  them  resorting  to  tree-hollows  by  the  retired 
lakes.  The  Red-head  is  also  reported  as  nesting 
rarely  in  this  region. 

It  is  quite  surprising  that  while  incalculable  thou- 
sands of  the  Eiders — known  to  fishermen  and  gun- 
ners as  "  Sea  Ducks" — pass  up  the  St.  Lawrence 
on  their  way  to  Labrador  and  beyond,  without  even 
stopping  at  the  Magdalen  Islands,  quite  a  few  of 
them  remain  for  the  summer  on  various  lonely 
islands  along  the  coast  of  Maine,  New  Brunswick, 
and  southern  Nova  Scotia.  Owing  to  persecution, 
they  are  usually  very  cunning  in  concealing  the 
whereabouts  of  the  nests.  They  always  cover  them 
with  a  profusion  of  the  soft  "  eider-down. "  when 
they  have  occasion  to  leave.  If  a  boat  appears,  they 
will  even  skulk  from  the  weedy  clumps  or  shelter- 
ing bush,  slip  down  to  the  water's  edge  and  swim 
off  under  water.  I  remember  once,  as  we  rowed 
around  a  point  of  "  No  Man's  Land,"  coming  right 
upon  a  female  Eider  that  had  probably  just  left  her 
nest  somewhere  up  on  the  shore.  At  first  she  did 
not  try  to  dive,  and  she  was  so  near  that  I  leaned 
over  the  side  of  the  boat  to  lay  hold  of  her.  Im- 
minent danger  brought  her  suddenly  to  herself, 
and  the  speedy  plunge  that  followed  was  the  last  I 
ever  saw  of  her. 

Once  I  caught  the  cunning  Eider  napping.  It 
was  on  Green  Island,  off  Mt.  Desert.  I  was  follow- 
ing a  sort  of  grass-grown  ledge,  quite  high  up  from 
the  water,  when  I  almost  trod  on  a  female  Eider, 
sitting  close.  Her  sudden  start  gave  a  decided, 
though  pleasant,  shock  to  my  nerves.  I  found  a 
bed  of  eider-down, — just  as  soft  as  it  is  reputed  to 


211 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 


be,  —  and  in  it  three  greenish  olive  eggs,  —  the  largest 
laid  by  any  of  the  Ducks,  nearly  as  large  as  Goose 
eggs,  —  were  very  cosily  bedded. 

When  we  come  as  far  south  as  southern  New 
England,  all  we  can  hope  to  find  of  breeding  Ducks 
are  the  Dusky  and  the  Wood  Ducks,  and  it  is  no 
easy  matter  to  find  even  these.  Usually  it  is  more 
by  accident  than  otherwise.  On  Martha's  Vineyard 
I  was  once  exploring  an  alder  swamp  for  the  home 
of  a  pair  of  Marsh  Hawks,  wrhen  a  great  Dusky 
Duck  suddenly  whirred  up  from  beneath  an  alder, 
almost  in  my  face,  and  I  found  my  first  Duck's 
nest  with  an  even  dozen  fine  eggs.  This  was  the 
second  day  of  June,  and  they  were  almost  ready 

to  hatch.  An- 
other time  when 
I  was  exploring 
the  rushy  edge 
of  a  pond  in  Con- 
necticut, I  no- 
ticed a  dark  place 
under  some 
rushes  that 
looked  suspici- 


ON  PULLING   IT  APART  I  FOUND  ELEVEN  WARM  EGGS 
OF  THE  DUSKY  DUCK."      FOUND  IN  KENT,  CONN. 


down.  It  was 
that,  indeed,  and  on  pulling  it  apart  I  found  eleven 
warm  eggs  of  the  Dusky  Duck. 

The  Wood  Duck  is  the  most  domestic  of  all 
the  tribe,  and  is  very  apt  to  nest  in  some  most  unex- 
pected place,  close  to  human  habitations.  I  knew 
of  one  nest  in  a  knot-hole  of  a  large  maple,  only  six 
feet  from  the  ground,  right  on  a  well-traveled  road 

212 


WILD-FOWL     OF     WlLD-FoWL 

near  a  house.  Hearing  of  a  Duck  being  seen  about 
a  certain  farmer's  barn,  I  climbed  up  on  top  of  his 
hay-mow, — the  middle  of  May,  it  was  —  and  dis- 
covered a  female  Wood  Duck  sitting  on  ten  eggs 
in  a  hollow  she  had  dug  in  the  hay  and  lined  with 
down  from  her  breast.  She  went  in  and  out  of  a 
hole  near  the  eaves.  The  farmer  said  that  during 
her  laying  time  she  was  absent  all  day,  but  at  night 
she  and  her  mate  sat  on  the  ridge-pole  of  the  roof, 
and  each  morning  when  he  entered  the  barn  to 
milk  she  flew  out,  having  deposited  another  egg 
since  the  evening  before.  Another  equally  interest- 
ing bird, — possibly  the  same  one, — made  a  nest  the 
next  season  in  a  barn  two  miles  from  this  one, 
and  the  farmer  caught  her  on  the  nest.  The 
eggs  are  small  and  rather  round,  shiny,  and  of  a 
beautiful  rich  cream -color.  The  Wood  Duck 
finishes  her  laying,  in  southern  New  England,  by 
the  middle  of  May,  the  Dusky  Duck  usually  by  the 
last  of  April. 

Altogether,  I  have  found  the  nests  and  eggs 
of  nineteen  species  of  Ducks  and  seen  the  young 
of  one  other.  A  very  interesting  study  it  has  been 
to  me,  and  I  look  upon  these  opportunities  as  an 
inestimable  privilege,  which  it  was  given  not  even 
to  the  great  Audubon  to  enjoy.  The  breeding 
habits  of  most  of  these  Ducks  in  his  day  were  abso- 
lutely unknown,  and  even  to  the  present  little  has 
appeared  in  books  about  them. 


I    have    also    enjoyed    making    a    study   of   the 
Ducks  that  come  in  the  migratory  flight  to  Massa- 

213 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

chusetts.  This  has  meant  many  a  watching  with 
hunters  in  the  Duck-stands  on  various  ponds, 
chasing  the  Ducks  on  the  ocean,  or  waiting  in  a 
gunning-line  for  them  to  come  to  me. 

It  is  very  exciting  to  watch  the  approach  of  a 
flock  to  one  of  these  "stands,"  or  "bowers,"  on 
the  shore  of  a  pond.  The  flock  first  flies  over 
and  begins  to  circle  around  the  pond.  The  live 
decoys  set  up  their  hoarse  clamor  of  invitation. 
At  length  they  splash  down  out  in  the  middle  of 
the  pond  near  the  "blocks"  or  wooden  decoys. 
Looking  cautiously  about,  they  get  their  bearings, 
and  begin  to  listen  to  the  decoys.  They  do  not 
always  yield  to  the  treachery,  but  when  they  once 
are  deceived  they  swim  in  a  body  at  a  rapid  rate 
right  for  the  stand.  Suddenly  the  guns,  pointed 
through  loopholes,  blaze  out  at  a  concerted  signal 
and  there  is  meat  for  the  hunters'  table.  A  great 
many  are  thus  taken  in  the  ponds  of  southeastern 
Massachusetts  and  elsewhere.  The  best  season  is 
throughout  October,  especially  about  the  middle, 
after  a  storm,  when  a  cold  northwest  gale  starts 
up.  How  they  will  fly,  flock  after  flock,  not  only 
in  early  morning  and  late  afternoon,  as  at  ordi- 
nary times,  but  all  day.  Many  kinds  will  be  found 
represented  in  the  number  of  the  slain. 

Late  in  October  the  stands  make  ready  for  the 
Canada  Geese,  some  of  them  keeping  large  flocks 
of  tame  Geese,  bred  from  wild  stock,  for  decoys. 
Some  of  these  decoys  are  wild  birds  that  have  been 
winged  by  shot.  In  a  few  days  such  cripples  will 
become  completely  domesticated,  and  even  eventu- 
ally breed  in  captivity.  November  is  the  time  for 

214 


WILD-FOWL     OF     WILD-FOWL 

the  "wild  Goose  chase,"  and  until  the  ponds  freeze 
up.  If  the  migrating  flocks  are  overtaken  by  thick 
or  stormy  weather  and  alight  in  the  ponds,  they  are 
apt  to  fall  easy  prey.  I  have  known  of  literally  cart- 
loads being  taken  off  from  these  ponds  after  a  night 
of  this  kind. 

The  staple,  standard  fowl  for  the  hunter  is  the 
Dusky,  or  "Black"  Duck,  excellent  for  the  table 
and  one  of  the  wariest  of  them  all.  Next  to  it  in 
abundance,  of  the  fresh-water  Ducks,  is  the  hand- 
some Wood  Duck.  With  these  two,  as  residents,  the 
hunting  season  begins,  and  they  are  about  all  the 
Ducks  we  have  until  with  the  early  frosts  the  mi- 
grants begin  to  appear.  Pintails,  Mallards,  and  Red- 
heads come  as  often  as  any  of  this  migratory  class. 
Sometimes  when  I  have  watched  through  a  loophole 
in  the  "stand"  a  bunch  of  Mallards  or  Redheads 
out  on  the  pond,  the  green  or  red  heads  of  the 
males  glistening  in  the  sunlight,  I  have  felt  that  the 
staid  old  New  England  pond  was  being  born  again. 
Such  glories  seemed  foreign — unnatural  to  it.  I 
wish  it  were  possible  that  for  five  years,  say,  Duck- 
shooting  could  absolutely  cease,  and  the  ponds  be 
again  populated  as  they  once  were.  Baldpates  come 
rather  sparingly,  usually  single  ones  with  other 
Ducks,  while  the  Gadwall,  Shoveler,  and  Canvas- 
back  are  only  rare  stragglers  now.  I  fear  this  may 
some  day  be  the  case  with  the  little  Ruddy  Duck 
that  comes  —  when  it  does  come  —  in  considerable 
flocks,  and  allows  gunners  to  row  up  and  extermi- 
nate them.  I  have  often  known  cases  in  which, 
out  of  a  large  flock,  not  a  single  individual  got 
out  of  the  pond  alive. 

215 


216 


WiLD-FoWL     OF     WlLD-FoWL 

Though    the    Scaups    are     classed    scientifically 
among  the    "  Sea  Ducks/'  they  seem   to   me   to  be 
found    almost   as    much   on    fresh  water  as   on   salt. 
A    great   many   of   the    Greater   and    Lesser    Scaup 
frequent   the    large    ponds,  and    take    good   care   of 
themselves,  not   minding   the    decoys    nor  allowing 
themselves    to    be    approached.      I    have    seen,   and 
taken,   the    Ring-necked    Scaup    occasionally.     The 
other  Sea   Ducks   that   come   into   the   ponds,  espe- 
cially during  the  easterly  storms,  do  not  fare  so  well. 
I  refer  to  the   three   Scoters  and  the  Oldsquaw,  or 
Long-tailed  Duck.    They  seem  bewildered,  and  will 
not  usually  leave,  though  it  cost  them   their  lives. 
The    gunners    soon   see    them,    and    paddle    toward 
them   down -wind.     The    foolish   Ducks  wait   for  a 
fusillade  in  the  water,  and  then  secure  another,  ris- 
ing toward  the  boat.     At  length  all  are  killed   but 
stragglers,  which    are    followed    up    and    shot   sepa- 
rately.    Last  fall,  on  October  n,  I  happened  to  be 
in  Berkshire  county,  Massachusetts,  near  Lake  Buell, 
and    began    to   hear    accounts   of  wonderful   Duck- 
shooting  in  the  lake  that  day.     Almost  every  family 
in    the   community  had    Ducks    hanging  up   in   the 
shed, —  Surf  and  White-winged  Scoters.     There  had 
been  a  storm  the  day  before,  and  toward  night  an 
immense   flock  of  these    Scoters,  probably  lost   and 
wearied,  settled   down  into   the   lake.      Many  were 
killed    that    night   and    the    next   day.      A  hundred 
and    fifty-eight    was    the    number    of    "  casualties " 
reported.     Wild  Geese  are  also  addicted  to  similar 
wanderings  and  disasters,  especially  in  sleet  storms, 
during    their    flight.      At    such    a    time    a    flock    of 
them,  when    I  was  a  boy,   descended   into  our  gar- 

217 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

den,  in  the  suburbs  of  Boston,  and  spent  the  night 
under  the  currant  bushes!  We  did  not  know  of 
it  at  the  time,  and  our  big  dog  kept  some  would-be 
pot-hunters  at  bay,  so  the  Geese  escaped. 


With  the  three  Mergansers,  especially  the  Hooded 
and  the  Goosander,  the  little  Buffle-head,  the  Amer- 
ican Golden-eye,  and  the  rare  Barrows'  Golden-eye, 
the  list  is  possibly  exhausted  of  the  Ducks  that  come 
into  the  New  England  lakes  and  ponds.  But  the 
seacoast  is  full  of  interest  and  wonders  in  that  direc- 
tion. South  of  Maine  the  Harlequin  Duck  and  the 
King  Eider  are  so  rare  as  to  hardly  enter  into  this 
account,  though  I  have  personally  known  of  their 
capture  on  the  Massachusetts  coast.  One  of  the 
fine  coastwise  sights  is  the  spring  flight  of  the 
Eiders.  During  the  early  days  of  April,  a  mile  or 
two  off  the  Chatham  bars,  I  have  seen  long  lines 
of  them,  coming  all  the  time,  pass  by  on  their  way 
north.  Each  flock  is  led  by  a  male, — a  striking 
creature  with  his  white  back,  black  under -parts, 
and  greenish  head.  The  brown  females  alternate 
with  the  males  more  or  less  irregularly,  and  the 
string  of  the  large,  swiftly  moving  fowl,  fifty  to  a 
hundred  or  more  in  number,  is  an  impressive  sight. 
If  the  wind  happens  to  come  on  strong  from  the 
southeast  during  this  period,  they  often  fly  well  in 
around  Monomoy  Point,  and  are  shot  from  the 
beach  by  men  concealed  in  pits.  I  have  often 
seen  the  flocks,  hungry  on  their  travels,  turn  into 
Chatham  bay  and  feed  on  the  mussel-flats. 

There,  also,   the    Brant    Geese    resort   in   large 

218 


WILD-FOWL     OF     WILD-FOWL 

numbers.  I  have  watched  flocks  of  them  that 
extended  in  a  solid  mass  for  literally  acres.  They 
are  exceedingly  shy,  and  though  such  a  flock  will 
always  rise  a  long  distance  away,  the  roar  of  the 
many  wings  comes  to  one  as  the  sound  of  thunder. 
The  flats  about  Monomoy  Point  are  notable  as  the 
great  Brant -shooting  ground  of  New  England, 
where  the  shy  fowl  are  taken  by  means  of  shooting- 
boxes  sunk  in  the  sandbars,  which  latter  are  often 
artificially  made  for  this  purpose.  A  big  string  of 
Brant  at  the  depot  or  in  the  baggage-car  is  a  familiar 
sight.  The  Brant  are  also  taken  in  the  fall  flight 
in  the  various  "  cooting-lines"  along  the  coast.  I 
have  seen  hordes  of  them  there  pass  by,  but  they 
almost  invariably  sheer  off  to  sea,  and  go  around 
the  end  of  the  line,  much  to  the  disappointment  of 
the  men  in  the  boats.  One  day  I  certainly  thought 
that  the  Brant  were  about  to  violate  their  safe  cus- 
tom. A  fine  bunch  were  flying  low,  and  coming 
right  for  the  boat  next  to  mine.  I  fairly  held  my 
breath,  as  I  expect  did  the  two  men  in  that  boat. 
The  Brant  were  within  a  hundred  yards,  and  seemed 
doomed,  when  some  one  fired  a  shot  at  a  passing 
Loon,  and  the  Geese  turned  and  went  back.  I 
saw  one  of  the  men  take  off  his  cap  and  hurl  it 
down  at  the  bottom  of  the  boat  in  a  rage. 

Another  of  the  prime  wild-fowl  sights  of  such 
bays  as  Chatham  is  the  exit  of  the  Oldsquaws  at 
sundown.  They  feed  during  the  winter  days  up  at 
the  head  of  the  bay.  To  see  or  shoot  them,  one 
should  anchor  in  a  skiff  in  the  middle  of  some 
narrow  channel.  At  length  there  will  come  a  con- 
fused chorus  of  weird  cries,  resembling  the  music 

219 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

of  a  pack  of  hounds  on  the  trail, — and  music  indeed 
it  is.  Presently  a  line  of  fowl  will  appear,  sweeping 
down  the  channel.  They  do  not  always  seem  to 
notice  the  boat,  and  I  have  often  had  them  double 
right  by  the  bow  when  I  sat  up  to  shoot.  I  think 
that  there  is  no  swifter  flier  among  birds  than  this 
garrulous  "  Squaw,"  and  if  one  is  to  hit  such  a 
mark  very  often,  he  must  be  an  adept.  Going  at 
such  tremendous  velocity,  when  one  is  brought 
down,  I  have  been  amazed  at  the  distance  that  its 
momentum  will  carry  it,  ricochetting  over  the  water, 
before  it  can  stop.  They  appear  to  rest  on  the  open 
sea  at  night,  where  they  are  quite  safe  from  moles- 
tation. On  cold,  still  days  they  sit  in  flocks  on  the 
water  and  their  chatter,  which  often  seems  to  re- 
solve itself  into  major  thirds,  is  to  me  one  of  the 
finest  sounds  of  Arctic-like  nature  at  this  season. 

The  Golden-eyes  also  feed  in  the  bays,  and,  hid- 
den in  a  seaweed  "  blind,"  one  can  toll  them  up 
with  wooden  decoys,  and  have  good  sport.  As 
spring  approaches,  the  Sheldrakes,  or  Mergansers, 
especially  the  Reb-dreasted,  become  more  numer- 
ous,—  the  males  now  splendid  with  their  green- 
crested  head-dress, — and  come  readily  to  the  decoys. 
The  little  Duffle-head — Teal -like  — skims  over  the 
bays  and  dodges  the  hunter  by  swimming  under 
ice-fields,  coming  up  beyond.  I  learned  this  lesson 
once  when  I  had  a  flock  cornered  in  such  a  way 
that  I  thought  they  could  not  escape  when  they 
undertook  to  dive.  I  waited  and  waited,  and  pres- 
ently saw  them  away  off  in  another  lane  of  water. 

When  the  bays  are  frozen  over  all  but  a  narrow 
channel,  the  fishermen  turn  from  fish  to  fowling, 

220 


WILD-FOWL     OF     WlLD-FoWL 

and,  clad  in  white,  build  ice-stands  along  the  edge 
of  the  channel,  and  shoot  large  numbers  of  the 
unwitting  fowl  that  follow  the  lane  of  water. 

The  coastwise  spring  migration  becomes  appar- 
ent during  the  last  half  of  March,  reaches  its  height 
in  the  first  half  of  April,  and  is  practically  over  early 
in  May,  the  procession  ending  with  large  loitering 
flocks  of  the  Scoters,  late  breeders  as  they  appear 
to  be.  In  the  return  flight  of  autumn  flocks  of  male 
Scoters  will  put  in  an  appearance  as  early  as  the  lat- 
ter part  of  August.  Then  in  September  some  of 
the  young  appear,  but  there  are  no  great  numbers 
till  October,  and  not  till  nearly  November,  or  until 
the  frosts  become  severe,  do  some  of  the  hardier 
sea  Ducks  and  the  Geese  arrive.  There  are  consid- 
erable differences  in  their  manner  of  migration. 
Most  of  them,  it  is  true,  follow  the  coast  line,  but 
individual  flocks  keep  just  out  of  gunshot  from  the 
shore,  while  others  fly  miles  from  land.  The  direc- 
tion of  the  wind  has  much  to  do  with  this.  With  a 
strong  wind  blowing  on  shore,  most  of  them  fly 
close  in,  while  on  calm  days  they  are  apt  to  be  far  out. 
Moreover,  some  species,  as  the  Scoters,  Oldsquaws 
and  Eiders,  ordinarily  fly  low  over  the  water,  though 
they  often  will  rise  if  they  suspect  danger,  while  the 
Mergansers,  Scaups,  Golden-eyes  or  u Whistlers," 
and  most  of  the  others,  are  apt  to  fly  high. 

Conditions  of  wind  have  also  much  effect  upon 
the  number  of  fowl  to  be  seen  in  migration,  even 
in  the  height  of  the  season.  Some  days  almost  no 
birds  are  seen,  while  on  others  thousands  are 
passing.  The  strengthening  east  wind  preceding  a 
storm  is  a  great  time  for  a  flight.  An  east  wind  is 

221 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

nearly  always  good,  though  it  is  apt  to  make  the  sea 
rough  for  boats.  The  gunners  at  Cape  Sable,  Nova 
Scotia,  think  that  the  first  day  of  a  southerly  wind 
is  one  of  the  best  times.  Low  temperature  also 
helps  to  keep  the  fowl  on  the  move.  The  worst 
weather  for  a  flight  is  a  pleasant,  warm  day,  calm  or 
with  an  off-shore  wind.  The  time  of  the  day  is  also 
a  factor.  The  first  two  or  three  hours  after  dawn 
are  the  best.  Often  fowl  fly  well  all  the  morning, 
but  usually  by  noon,  or  at  the  latest  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon,  the  flight  is  about  over,  though 
occasional  flocks  may  be  seen  till  dusk. 

Under  the  head  of  the  Scoters,  or  "Coots,"  as 
the  gunners  call  them,  come  three  different  sorts. 
The  Surf  Scoter  is  the  commonest.  The  handsome 
black  male,  with  white  on  the  head,  is  popularly 
called  the  "Skunk-head  Coot,"  as  though  it  were  a 
different  species  from  its  mate  and  young,  which 
are  known  as  the  common  "Gray  Coot."  Next  in 
abundance  is  the  "White-winged  Coot,"  distin- 
guishable by  its  larger  size  and  white  bar  on  each 
wing.  The  main  plumage  of  the  male  is  black, 
while  the  females  and  young  are  of  a  duller,  more 
rusty  hue.  Last,  yet  fairly  common,  is  the  Ameri- 
can or  Black  Scoter,  nicknamed  "Butter-bill  Coot," 
on  account  of  the  conspicuous  patch  of  yellow  skin 
at  the  base  of  the  bill,  about  the  color  of  a  lump  of 
butter.  It  is  only  the  male  that  has  this  and  is  thus 
named,  its  whole  plumage  being  deep  black.  The 
female  and  young  are  confused  with  those  of  the 
Surf  Scoter  under  the  name  of  "Gray  Coot."  The 
best  way  to  tell  them  apart — which  very  few  gunners 
can  do — is  by  the  bill,  the  plumage  being  a  good 

222 


WiLD-FoWL     OF     WlLD-FoWL 

deal  alike.  The  Surf  Scoter,  whatever  the  age  or 
sex,  has  a  large,  swollen  sort  of  bill,  whereas  the 
bill  of  the  other  species  is  more  like  that  of  the 
Dusky  or  "Black"  Duck. 

Besides  the  Scoters,  the  Oldsquaws  and  Red- 
breasted  Mergansers,  or  Sheldrakes,  are  the  other 
two  most  common  species  encountered  in  this  line- 
shooting,  though  various  other  Ducks  are  sometimes 
obtained.  The  other  kinds,  except  the  Eiders,  are 
more  accustomed  to  fly  high,  and  will  not  mind 
decoys  on  the  open  sea.  The  Golden-eyes  and 
Scaups,  or  "  Blue-bills,"  are  usually  rather  common. 
They  ordinarily  fly  high  and  keep  away  from  the 
boats.  The  Mergansers,  too,  like  high  flights,  but 
often  break  this  rule — to  their  sorrow.  It  is  a  very 
singular  habit  of  some  of  these  fowl  when  flying 
high  over  a  gunner,  upon  his  utterance  of  a  shout 
or  a  shrill  whistle,  suddenly  to  check  their  onward 
flight  and  pitch  or  drop  almost  straight  down,  thus 
putting  themselves  in  range  of  the  deadly  fusillade. 

I  wish  I  could  adequately  describe  a  scene  which 
I  witnessed  on  the  old  Pilgrim  coast  at  Manomet 
one  5th  of  November.  Flying  gray  clouds  covered 
the  sky.  The  wind  was  northeast,  and  increasing 
every  hour.  A  few  boats  went  out  early  but  soon 
came  in,  as  the  seas  were  becoming  dangerous. 
Low  over  the  frothing  ocean  flew  lines  and  clouds 
of  wild-fowl,  scudding  from  the  north  before  the 
blasts.  They  were  in  sight  all  the  time.  Before 
one  flock  had  passed  southward,  several  more  were 
to  be  seen  coming,  at  times  six  or  eight  flocks  in 
sight  at  once.  By  ten  the  rain  began  to  beat  spite- 
fully on  our  faces  as  we  stood  on  the  bluff  with 

223 


AMONG   THE   WATER    FOWL 

awed  spirits  watching  Nature  in  her  passion.  By 
noon  the  wind  had  reached  hurricane  force.  Flocks 
of  fowl  were  fairly  hurled  in  over  the  rocks,  many 
of  them  to  be  shot  down  by  the  u  station"  men, 
and  others,  who  stood  ready.  I  made  no  effort  to 
estimate  the  number  of  that  day's  flight.  Thou- 
sands upon  thousands  there  were,  and  ot  all  kinds. 
The  surf  thundered  in  upon  the  rocks,  and  clouds 
of  spray  flew  up  over  the  top  of  the  bluff.  It  was 
a  wild,  an  awful  night.  Wakeful  we  lay  in  our 
beds  that  rocked  as  the  avalanches  of  atmosphere 
were  hurled  upon  the  frail,  trembling  cottage. 

In  the  morning  when  I  opened  the  door  and 
stepped  out,  a  blast  struck  me  that  made  me  gasp 
for  breath  and  cling  to  the  railing.  Blinded  with 
the  stinging  sleet,  I  could  not  see  whether  fowl 
were  flying  or  not.  A  neighboring  barn  had  dis- 
appeared, lying  in  fragments  on  the  rocks  around 
the  Point.  Everything  was  white  with  snow.  Win- 
ter had  come  upon  land,  ocean,  and  wild-fowl. 


YOUNG    DUSKY    DUCK,    MAGDALEN    ISLANDS 
224 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


JUN    6  I960 

MvrMVfiflLM 

WlYOU  GUI-IT! 

DEC  2  6  1368 

•  •  i:  13  196918 

ft  u  to* 

T5^ 

LD  21-50m-6,'59 
(A2845slO)476 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

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